


A Goblin Queen's Guide to Time-Travel

by Shaeydyrllah



Series: A Series of Dubious Guides that were Destined to be Ignored [1]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M, Goblin Queen Sarah, Humor, Jareth and Sarah both do morally ambiguous things, Sexual Content, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25592728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaeydyrllah/pseuds/Shaeydyrllah
Summary: Appearing sixty years in the past on the lap of a brooding Goblin King, wallowing over his defeat at the hands of a dashing Labyrinthine Champion wasn’t really part of Sarah’s plan.Nevertheless, she was the Goblin Queen; she’d get home to her husband and son somehow.As for her Not-Quite-Husband running into his future wife...well...he's not so willing to let her leave this time...
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams
Series: A Series of Dubious Guides that were Destined to be Ignored [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918249
Comments: 65
Kudos: 244
Collections: Labyrinth





	A Goblin Queen's Guide to Time-Travel

**Author's Note:**

> So...my first Labyrinth fic, warnings for sexual content and semi-dark Jareth. 
> 
> Sarah should really have heeded those time-travel rules, whoops
> 
> A feisty one-shot that ended up being 85 pages long

~*o0o*~

_Rule One: Do not tell anyone that you’re from the future._

_I wish I could find a place to hide from my husband._

One minute Sarah was leaning against a wall while panting for breath, her hands pressed against the grainy sandstone of the Labyrinth’s coarse bricks, the next she was falling through it.

She stumbled wildly with her arms outstretched and her vision flickering gold. A warm hum of amused affection suffused through Sarah’s mind. She was given the distinct impression that the Labyrinth was laughing at her as she was dumped unceremoniously onto the lap of the person she had been hiding from.

Arms automatically reached out to catch her as she stumbled backwards into the Goblin King, sat upon his ivory throne.

Sarah flashed her husband a rueful grin as his grip tightened on her waist. She adjusted her weight so she was seated more comfortably in his lap. Her smile faltered at the look of utter bewilderment upon his face, mismatched eyes bored into her intently; his lips were pressed into a severe line.

“Jareth?” She questioned hesitantly.

The bewilderment soon faded as a look of pain flashed across his face before being swiftly masked under cool disdain. Sarah felt as though the Fierys had torn apart her insides and rearranged them into what they deemed a more aesthetically pleasing display; it had been a long time since she had seen that particular look on Jareth’s face directed at her. Shakily, Sarah slid off his lap; gloved fingers released her slowly as if unwilling to part with her touch.

Stepping backwards carefully, Sarah made note of his all-black attire, sable leather clinging to every inch of his body save for his face and partially exposed chest visible through loosely tied laces. It was a curious ensemble that reminded her of how he had initially clothed himself to seem intimidating when they had first met.

The Labyrinth itself contained a gloomier atmosphere than she was familiar with, the throne room wasn’t well lit and the scurrying shadows in the corners of the room were suspiciously quiet. The great sweeping arches and pillars were smothered under dust and choking under a lack of care.

There wasn’t a stray chicken in sight.

“I’m going to ask this only once.” The Goblin King began in a steely voice, his face was devoid of any warmth. “What are you doing in my Kingdom, _Sarah_?”

The harshness of his voice faltered upon speaking her name as if it were impossible to utter it with any real malice.

 _My_ Kingdomhe had said, not _ours._

 _Aggravation in the face of his hostility doesn't seem like the best approach._ Sarah fought back the urge to correct him; his Kingdom had always been hers, laid down at her feet from the moment he had set eyes upon her, pretending differently was insulting to both of them.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

It wasn't the brightest response on her part, _but honestly, what did he think she was doing here?_ She lived here.

His eyes narrowed at her insolence, rising to his feet he moved towards her with languid grace. _Of course, he couldn’t be sat in her presence when they were quarrelling; he’d take any petty advantage available even if that included physically towering over her._

“I think you’re here to smear your _supposed_ victory in my face.” He snarled back at her, his whole body tensed like a viper poised to strike, fitting considering the venomous words pouring from his lips.

Sarah couldn’t comprehend what victory he was referring to. She had asked the Labyrinth to help hide her from her husband to prove that her evasive abilities surpassed his aptitude for finding people.

In short, they were playing ‘hide and seek’ but it seemed a tad juvenile to refer to it as thus.

And the outcome of being found after his relentless pursuit was more satisfying a thousandfold.

Instead of helping her hide, the Labyrinth had launched her straight into her husband, a betrayal she didn’t take lightly. _Just see if I talk to Darius now about repairing the gating in the southern gardens,_ she thought darkly in the general direction of the all-encompassing maze.

The Labyrinth released another unrepentantly mischievous hum in her mind.

Sarah was immediately suspicious of anything that could cause the Labyrinth to feel smug.

Its emotions were never quite right, too inhuman to be categorised adequately as they teased at the edges of her senses. Just as she could feel the Labyrinth stretch out before her like an additional limb, its emotions were Sarah’s to experience as well. For an additional limb, it didn’t cooperate very well; it likely didn’t help that she and Jareth were forever wrestling over who had control over said limb.

She was obviously the favourite despite what her husband insisted.

“My victory,” she paused thoughtfully, “You’ll have to remind me of which _one_ that is.” Perhaps that came out somewhat conceited but it was all part of the game they played.

Playfully taunting and teasing one another in an attempt to eternally one-up each other was essentially the foundation of their relationship. Some may say that that isn’t exactly a _healthy_ basis for a loving marriage to arise from; no one else was married to the Goblin King so Sarah felt like she was the greater authority on the matter.

Evidently, Jareth wasn’t in the mood for her playful jibes.

His eyes darkened as he stepped into her personal space. Normally, Sarah was a huge fan of her husband being in her personal space.

Generally, he didn’t look like he wanted to murder her.

He arched an elegant eyebrow at her as she decided to stand her ground with every ounce of faux-indifference she could muster. Her attempt at appearing calm was unfortunately interpreted as defiance. She could hardly help it if she gave off threatening vibes. She was a Queen after all.

His fingers trailed through the air, mere millimetres from her cheek in what could have been a caress if not for the rage simmering in his eyes. “I’m referring to you waltzing into my kingdom, laying waste to my city and denying everything you ever wanted.” Sarah tilted her face slightly so the cool touch of his gloves could be felt against her face.

“Was _waltzing_ supposed to be a pun?” She couldn’t fathom why he would be bringing up grievances from decades past. “I suppose I could mention your generous retaliation.” She murmured watching his eyes widen as she curved her body into a more open stance to allow him easier access, instead of recoiling and folding her arms in restrained irritation like she was tempted to.

“Cleaners.” She tapped a finger against his chest with a mocking smile, “Goblin Armies, Drugged-Peach-Waltzes.” She tapped a second and third finger, bemused by the way he would recoil from the slightest of pressure she applied. He withdrew his hand from her face sharply as though her words burned him.

“You haven’t mentioned your brother.” His voice adopted a cautious tone, scanning her face for _something_. She wasn’t sure what.

Sarah shrugged, “Well, I did wish him away. That one’s on me.”

After many lengthy debates, Sarah had been willing to accept a modicum of responsibility for her part in wishing her brother away. Sure, she’d been a selfish brat hell-bent on getting whatever she desired; the Labyrinth had been a character-building experience, to say the least.

That didn’t mean she didn’t have doubts over the application of Fae law to humans. By human law, she was neither Toby’s parent nor guardian at fifteen and lacked the power to resist babysitting him let alone exiling him from her family tree.

“At least there’s one thing we can agree on.” He drawled, still wrong-footed by Sarah’s lack of concern over being back in the Underground.

“And why exactly are you bringing up ancient history?” She mused, “Did Hoggle say something?”

Her Dwarven friend even looking at the King the wrong way was a surefire way of inciting his wrath. It had taken an insurmountable level of convincing to cajole Jareth into allowing Hoggle to abdicate his ‘throne;’ Prince of the Land of Stench was an unsurprisingly unpleasant experience.

Jareth’s nose pinched at the mention of her friend’s name and his lips curled into a sneer.

“Hogbrain is lucky he’s still intact after his little act of treason.” He responded coldly.

 _Now that was concerning,_ she hadn’t seen that level of vehement scorn from Jareth in a long time. (Not since she’d convinced several Goblins to replace her husband’s hair care products with a concoction of their own creation.) Internally she cursed the Labyrinth once more for throwing her into the path of her husband in this bizarrely irate mood.

“I’m not sure I’ll be so lenient with the inciter of the uprising.” He continued, “Casually wandering into my throne room.”

 _Maybe this was a roleplay thing;_ normally, he gave her a bit of advanced warning.

He gave her a look of mirth, “Well, landing in my throne room in any case, did you have a particular destination in mind or were you just that eager to see me after our year apart?”

Her mind ground to a halt.

“A year.” She echoed, well, mouthed really; her vocal cords weren’t functioning properly.

Jareth seemed quizzical at the utter disbelief plastered across her face; for nothing he had said since she entered the throne room had made a lick of sense to her.

The creeping realisation that she was the reason for Labyrinth’s feelings of humour dawned on her much like a sledgehammer, that is to say, it didn’t creep so much as bludgeon her in the face.

If the Sovereign of the Labyrinth could reorder time then it wasn’t much of a stretch to assume the Labyrinth itself could do it too.

At least Jareth’s mourning-widower-attire in the face of a lack of Runners to inspire fear in made more sense.

The dark flickering lights and sombre absence of the frolicking and indelicate rambunctious partying of his Goblin subjects now all seemed indicative of Jareth’s angst phase after she rejected him the first time (there had been many).

He always was an overdramatic bastard.

_I wish I could find a place to hide from my husband..._

What better place to hide from her husband than in the past?

The Labyrinth should be given a gold star for fulfilling the technicalities of a wish to the letter; as vexed as she was at the Labyrinth she could begrudgingly agree that the Fae before her wasn’t _technically_ her husband yet.

“A year.” She repeated once more, _truly her witty rhetoric must astound him._

“Yes, a year. Twelve months, three hundred and sixty-five days.” He snapped, “Or was our encounter so unremarkable that you had forgotten?”

She felt a pang of remorse as he continued to lash out with bitter diatribe. Her poor love with a newly broken heart and a truly obscure understanding of courtship, his journey was destined to be a long one.

She didn’t feel that sorry when she recalled that he’d once thought it appropriate to essentially propose to a fifteen-year-old that he’d stalked in avian form for months.

According to Jareth, he was being romantic; Sarah had called it creepy but she was the old fashioned type that thought a potential suitor should maybe try talking to the object of their affections instead of challenging them to a death-defying quest.

She would have cottoned on to the whole time-travel malarkey sooner had it not been for Jareth’s stubborn refusal to age, a dreadful habit he’d passed on to his wife.

“Hmm, a year for you and sixty for myself.” She rebuked as though Jareth’s inability to count was mildly disappointing.

His eyes narrowed at her seemingly outlandish claim. “Don’t be absurd Sarah; you’re hardly in your seventies.”

Sarah tapped a finger against her chin thoughtfully, “I do have a vigorous exercise and moisturising routine.” He didn’t seem impressed by her levity. She grinned at him gleefully, “If you are correct then I'm only sixteen.” Her tone of voice became challenging as she altered her stance to accentuate her _assets._

Jareth’s eyes were drawn to the shapely curves of her body, undisguised by her tightly fitting clothing. He took in her attire from her plunging v-neck blouse in snowy white to her oak toned trousers obscured by a pair of somewhat impractically long hiking boots. Her lengthy crimson coat clung to her like a second skin and the coiled circlet of plaits around her head were nothing short of regal. Most of all it was her eyes that convinced him, the secrets that danced in them spoke of histories long since past.

It was quite clear to Jareth that she was no teenager, clinging to the last vestiges of childhood.

She could feel his covetous eyes upon her, drinking in all that was not his and she revelled in it. It had been too long since she had played this _particular game_ with Jareth, where he could look and want as much as he liked while she denied him and herself.

He cleared his throat, “I stand corrected, a year for myself and threescore for you. Although you hardly appear so aged as you claim.”

Sarah felt a shiver rise up her spine. She reminded herself that while she could play with this Jareth this one wasn’t hers, regardless of the dark promise glinting in his eyes. “Things are not always as they appear. A lesson I was very much in need of learning once.”

“And what a wise teacher you had.” He followed the way she moved across the room until she boldly perched herself on the arm of his throne. “Immortality has taken the kaleidoscope of your sought after daydreams and painted them across your flesh. How lovely you are in defiance of time and your long lost humanity.” He eyed her hungrily.

She dare not sit in his actual throne; such an act may be a declaration of something she couldn’t follow through with, not without consequences.

She could feel the Labyrinth tugging at her mind, a gentle suggestion, no, an offer to help. The Labyrinth would not see its Queen subservient in any capacity and was all too happy to remedy her lack of throne. All it would take would be silent acceptance and the room would shift and warp at her command.

Perhaps that would frighten this Jareth, to see his Kingdom bend to her will. She rather hoped it would.

“Sooo...” She drew out, “I can explain.” The upward lilt of her voice made it sound more like she was asking a question than making a confident sweeping statement.

“Can you?” He sounded far too cheerful in contrast to his previous demeanour. He eyed his throne as if pondering whether or not he should sit back down in it, it would have been difficult to seat himself with her crossed legs splayed out to the side barring him entry.

She pursed her lips, “I mean I probably _could_ but I’m not sure I _should_.” She was under the impression that informing people of future events tended to be frowned upon, in case it, _you know_ , unravels all of time and space itself. That could cause some complications for her return trip.

Come to think of it did she really need to put the energy into getting home? It was after all up to her husband to come and find her, to _seek_.

_Do you really think you can hide from me? Somewhere that your soul wouldn’t croon its bewitching melodies out to draw me to your side?_

Her husband was probably combing every inch of their realm for her, having a quick perusal of her twisty-turny timeline likely hadn’t crossed his mind when they decided to play this game.

Which would mean she’d need _this_ Jareth’s cooperation to get home.

She was screwed.

“I insist that my _guest_ tells me all about her travels. It sounds like you’ve come far.” She’d never known anyone who could make the word ‘guest’ sound like ‘feral raccoon I found rummaging through the garbage.’

One of the more pesky drawbacks of forsaking her humanity was not only did she gain immortality but also the unfortunate downside of being unable to lie. Personally, she thought that was bullshit. _How can one’s biology impact words themselves?_

Jareth was especially pleased during those first few weeks where she’d choke on her words and stutter when a falsehood crossed her lips. That was all before she discovered the importance of omission and saying things without actually saying anything. The Fae were not a loquacious species.

That didn’t include Jareth’s penchant for monologuing.

The arm of the throne was starting to dig into her behind uncomfortable but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him have his seat back. A soft scurrying sound on her left alerted her to the presence of a Goblin brave enough to peak out at the King and his recalcitrant guest. It peered out behind a pillar at them both with luminous eyes too large for its sagging face.

Jareth, alerted to the shift in her attention, threw a glare at the creature until it melted back into the shadows. Its shrill voice was still audible as it called out to others about ‘The-Girl-Who-Ate-The-Peach-And-Turned-Their-King-Into-A-Slightly-More-Sadistic-Sovereign.’ Sarah thought ‘Goblin Queen’ was a more apt title but they weren’t to know that yet.

“Far in terms of time, not distance. I was in the Labyrinth when this happened.” Sarah started cautiously, unwilling to give too much away. “I was playing a game of sorts and I needed somewhere to hide.”

His eyes lit up at the word _game_ , no matter which Jareth he was, he was bound to be unnaturally fond of whatever challenge she was partaking in. He stepped closer so her boots were now pressed up against his leather breeches.

“And what were you doing, playing in my Labyrinth?” An edge of threat crept into his voice. He craned his neck to look down upon her seated position. Flyaway strands of his Midasian spun hair hovered between his face and hers. 

She straightened her posture, determined to not be cowed, “Like I said, playing with a friend.” 

Internally she winced as the almost lie made her throat burn warningly. Quite possibly she was stretching the definition of the word ‘friend’ but if you can’t call your husband a friend then you shouldn’t really be married to him.

“Really?” He radiated a deadly aura that would subdue a lesser opponent. “And do I make a habit of allowing everyone and their friends to traipse around my Kingdom in the future?”

“Well, that is _your_ decision.” She defended, attempting to skirt around who exactly her _friend_ was. Telling Jareth that she enjoyed it when he chased her through his maze would give him the wrong idea, or more precisely the _right_ idea. “And I’m not everyone.”

She could feel his warm breath against her face as he let out a huff of irritation. “You thought this would be a good place to hide?”

Sarah shot a betrayed look at the Labyrinth, which in reality made it seem like she was just scowling at the wall like a crazy person.

“I asked the Labyrinth to help me find a place to hide.” She waved her arms dramatically. “And, ta-da!”

Jareth stepped back and gave her a look that was purely condescending. “I would have thought you’d learnt by now to not just ask for things without considering the consequences. I suppose you didn’t learn as much as you thought you did when you ran my Labyrinth.”

 _Our Labyrinth,_ She mentally corrected him.

If he expected her to start grovelling for his help he had another thing coming.

“Without a doubt, my _friend_ will have difficulty finding me.” The word friend still tasted acidic in her mouth. “ But, I trust that the Labyrinth has brought me to where I’m supposed to be.”

Her caginess seemed to be wearing on Jareth’s frayed nerves as she refused to enlighten him as to the nature of the events leading up to her unexpected journey.

She needed to remind herself that whilst Jareth was always dangerous, _this_ Jareth could be a threat to her in a way that her husband was not. In the early days, after her initial rejection, romance hadn’t been at the forefront of his mind.

He twined his gloved fingers together and she watched with rapt attention as he flipped his laced hands over; drawing them back revealed a crystal orb.

“Well, if you trust that you’re supposed to be here, then I shall prepare accommodations for my guest, while she awaits her _friend.”_ His smile was anything but welcoming.

Either Jareth could sense that friend wasn’t the most accurate term she could have picked for her husband or he was just generally irked at the thought of even in the future being haunted by the woman who rejected him.

The crystal rolled off the tips of his fingers. Sarah stood abruptly, wincing as she attempted to regain a sense of feeling in her numb lower body. She vowed to make the arms of thrones more comfortable to perch on when she returned to her time.

The crystal fell to the ground, clinking on the hard stone beneath and began to circle her, round and round.

She could have done something to stop it. She could call out for the Labyrinth and it would obey...in some capacity.

But to issue a command in the Goblin Kingdom would be tantamount to announcing her role in the Underground, a role that Jareth recalled her denying wanting a year ago.

The last thing she saw was his smirk as the grating cacophony of the crystal against stone sped up and wore away the ground beneath her feet; she plummeted into darkness.

~*o0o*~

_Rule Two: Do not make any agreements that might bind you to the past._

“I’m sure everything will work out,” Sarah spoke aloud to herself. Apparently, if you could lie to yourself convincingly enough you could believe something was true.

If there was someone narrating her life this was probably the cue for a booming omniscient voice to declare “ **Everything was not going to work out**.” They most likely sounded like Morgan Freeman. Or Jareth, he wouldn’t skip out on a chance to contradict her. It was worrisome that her internal thoughts had taken to sounding like the Goblin King.

She ran the palm of her hand down the jagged grainy surface of the silvery rock that made up her prison walls. Dust clung to her hand and shimmered like embedded stars in her skin, a reminder that she was marked by the Labyrinth as much as the Labyrinth was marked by her.

As desolated and untouched as the oubliette had been, she knew it still. She knew every inch of her Kingdom.

Oubliette. From the French: ‘Oublier’-To Forget.

Jareth was sorely mistaken if he thought shoving her down a dark hole would help him forget her.

Miraculously, a heap of pillows draped in satin finery had been waiting for her at the bottom of her plunge into the abyss. Somehow she was more inclined to believe that it had been a courtesy extended by the Labyrinth as opposed to its King.

“Well beautiful.” She addressed the Labyrinth. She felt it stir in her mind like oil set upon water, brushing over her thoughts and never twining with them. “Fancy helping me out?”

A gentle breeze drifted through the oubliette, it caught against her face in a facsimile of a soothing touch. The wind picked up and swirled around her causing her coat to flare out against the force of it. The Labyrinth was toying with her.

“Yes, I know _he_ sent me down here.” It was better not to speak his name less she gave him permission to come to her. “But you brought me to this time, would you see your Queen suffer down here?”

The winds paused and a low tremor rocked through the dungeon walls as if the Labyrinth were pondering over her request. An abandoned lantern sputtered to life at her feet, the amber glare watched her as did every speck of her Kingdom.

Occasionally the Labyrinth liked to remind her of the time she’d abandoned it, twice really. For not only did she hold Jareth’s heart but she had stolen the Labyrinth’s as well and it proved just as possessive as its King.

She assumed that _this_ Labyrinth was as much her Labyrinth as the one in the future. It would seem that this one still felt rather neglected by the flight of her younger self.

“I came back,” she rolled her eyes, “Besides, I am the one who breathed life back into you as you drank deeply from my imagination and tantalising dreams. It was your King that allowed you to stagnate and fall in my absence.”

She beamed as the lamp grew ever brighter and the stirring winds warmed and embraced her. “Let’s remind his Majesty that I am a Champion. And Champions do not lose.” She swore.

The walls shuddered as they gave birth to a staircase, meandering in a lazy spiral up to the surface. The steps were made of a variety of rock types and were incredibly uneven. Each step differed from comfortably placing both feet on one step to the slightest balance of her on tiptoe on another.

Sunlight streamed above and the shadows peeled away to reveal a section of the Labyrinth’s hedge maze. Thorny branches loomed before her but inspired no fear. As she stepped closer the walls yielded, parting to allow her passage wherever she dared to walk.

It had occurred to her that since her will was as strong as her husbands, and her Kingdom was as great, that maybe she could have a stab at reordering time.

Then she recalled the Winter Garden Party twelve years ago and quickly thought better of it.

Getting caught in a continuous loop of Lady Dethusa offering her clams whilst recounting the tale of how she met her wife whilst hiding from rabid ostriches grew tiresome after the three-hundred and seventh repetition.

All she had tried to do was speed things up a bit. She couldn’t look at a plate of clams without growing pallid. Her forays into time-altering had been sharply curbed. _Jareth had never let her forget it._

That wasn’t the only time travel mishap she’d been implicated in, but it was far more pleasant to think about than the first.

Polished stone steps pushed up from the dirt to prevent her boots from growing muddied by the previously untamed ground. Each step left an imprint within the Labyrinth as though the maze were desperate to record every trace of her being there.

A broken-off curse was audible around the corner from her. She followed the sound of pain and anguish to the sight of a man in his thirties. He was dressed in a navy pinstripe suit that she supposed from the cufflinks and the skewed tie pin had to be expensive. It was however completely drenched and torn in several areas.

Sarah regarded him with concern as he staggered forward. His face was ruddy from exertion and his hair was now a tangled mess of mahogany waves. The most interesting thing about him was that somehow he had acquired a sword from somewhere.

“Are you alright?” A seemingly redundant question given his tattered state.

His eyes lit up at the sight of another person, the sword he had been holding in front of him was now pointed downwards as though he had immediately dismissed her as a threat. Not that a sword would have done him much good if she had decided to be threatening.

He held a hand out to shake her own. Cautiously she allowed him to wrap his grimy digits around her hand, grimacing at the residual mud he left.

“Oh am I glad to see you!” He gasped out, pumping her arm up and down vigorously. “Adam Laker. I’ve been here for hours and you’re the first human I’ve come across.”

Wiping her hand on her trousers discretely, she surveyed the person in front of her. There were few reasons for humans to be found wandering the Labyrinth.

“I’m Sarah.” She didn’t offer a last name, names had power after all. “Are you a Runner?” She inquired with mild interest as though they were discussing the weather and not whether the man in front of her was off completing a life-threatening challenge to return a child.

His face screwed up in confusion at her terminology. “Runner? I’ve not got the time for namby-pamby sports like running.”He scoffed pretentiously. “I’m a business owner.” He watched her carefully as if expecting her to seem impressed.

She rolled her eyes, “No, I meant are you Running the Labyrinth to reclaim a child?”

His expression hardened and he cast furtive glances at the trees around like he expected to find the Goblin King hiding there. Jareth wasn’t much one for climbing trees but that didn’t rule out his owl form being able to watch from the branches.

“That monster took my daughter.” He growled, “Stole her clear out of her cot, my little Abbigail.”

“I see.” She replied solemnly, “And you’re here to retrieve her?”

The man shuddered in horror, “Yeah, who knows what my crazy ex will tell the attorney if the kid goes missing. I could lose half of Laker Enterprises in the divorce.”

Sarah’s opinion of the pretty man with the sword rapidly diminished. It was no great loss, he wasn’t glittery enough for her tastes anyway.

“What a compelling motive.” Mocked a voice from behind them. The Goblin King had joined the party, with _surprise, surprise_ , an outfit change. Absently she noted he was still wearing black but there were threads of crimson running through his billowing cape.

Adam whipped around with the sword, he held it in front of him at an odd angle with both hands, gripping onto it for dear life. She watched as sweat beaded on his forehead; he eyed the King warily.

Jareth seemed amused by his little act of intimidation and stepped closer so that the tip of the blade caught against his throat. Completely unconcerned by the weapon in front of his face he dared to smile at the trembling businessman.

“Do you really think an object you _oh so_ fortuitously found lying in my Kingdom would have the gall to harm me?” He asked sardonically.

Trying his luck, the sword phased straight through Jareth like one or both were completely immaterial.

Adam pulled the sword back unbloodied and stared at him in terror. “What the hell are you?”

“I’m the Goblin King.” A clap of thunder roared overhead and all of the light in the sky was swiftly shrouded under a blanket of warning storm clouds.

Sarah couldn’t help the delighted laugh that broke past the hand she had clasped over her mouth. Jareth would always be Jareth. Nostalgia rose in her like a curling wave tugging at the debris of a wrecked ship, _or some other equally gooey simile relating to her affection for her husband._

Jareth looked put-out to have his dramatic announcement met by a humorous reception.

Adam watched her incredulously, it would seem that laughter wasn’t at the forefront of his mind either.

“A-Are you the Goblin Queen?” Adam managed to stutter out at last.

Sarah was rather pleased to be met with a comparative level of fear as that garnered by her _not-yet-husband_. She shot Adam a half-feral grin full of promise, power glinted across the surface of her skin as a bar of light broke through into the small tree enclosed area and highlighted her, adding credence to his enquiry about her considerable position of authority.

Jareth didn’t even turn around to watch her little power play, _the dick._

“No, she’s a visitor. An unwanted one at that.” He griped. His facade of menace grew strained.

The bold streak of sunlight faded away from the sky as it grew overcast once more. Sarah folded her arms across her chest, displeased by Jareth’s dismissal. Adam, on the other hand, appeared relieved at the prospect of gaining an ally.

“Would you mind giving me some directions?” He entreated her sheepishly. He started to shift closer to Sarah as if hoping she would protect him from Jareth’s wrath.

“No need.” Jareth hissed at the man. “I’ll give you _a_ direction.” He brought two fingers up to his mouth, letting forth what she assumed would be a piercing whistle but was, in fact, the opening notes to Beethoven’s ‘Für Elise’. Sarah wasn’t quite sure how he managed to whistle whilst still wearing his sleek leather gloves.

A shrill screech rang out, signalling the arrival of a most unusual bird. Stray pieces of metal from a scrap heap were forced together haphazardly into the shape of wings; something that looked like a parking metre protruded from its back where there should be tail feathers. With each beat of its wings, there was a deafening clang that shook forth a shower of nuts and bolts. The most alarming thing about the Most-Unusual-Bird was the humanoid mouth in the centre of its face.

Talons made of broken rulers and scotch-tape made a grab for Adam. He was lifted by the shoulder-pads of his fancy business suit. No matter how he struggled he couldn’t break free, not that he would want to be released so high up in the air in any case.

“Directions to The-Bog-of-Eternal-Stench,” Jareth called out to the Runner. “You’re welcome.” He tacked on unhelpfully as the Most-Unusual-Bird dragged him away.

Sarah had never seen the Most-Unusual-Bird before and she’d been living in the Underground for quite some time. There was a strong possibility that the creature was created in response to this particular Runner’s presence.

Jareth’s attention snapped back to her now that the Runner had been temporarily dealt with. “How did you get out of the oubliette, Precious?” His tone of voice sounded amiable enough but his eyes screamed danger.

“As _generous_ as your offer of accommodations was, I’m afraid I felt a bit claustrophobic down there.” She responded lightly, watching fury race through every inch of the Goblin King’s body in the stiffness of his stance. “I just walked up the stairs to get some fresh air.”

“What stairs?” He growled out.

“The ones leading out of the oubliette.” She smirked.

Now it was Jareth’s turn to glower at the walls threateningly.

The hedge maze thickened and thorns started to protrude an extra few centimetres forward. It seemed that the Labyrinth was preparing itself for an assault. Sarah didn’t blame it for feeling wary of Jareth.

Maybe she could annoy Jareth into wishing her away back to _her_ Goblin King.

She was walking a fine line between aggravating him and tempting him to commit homicide. This Jareth wasn’t quite as fond of her as she was him. _Easing back on her devastating repartees may be conducive to a longer life span._

Jareth twisted his fingers together to produce a crystal, he spun it around his fingers with practised ease. She refused to admit she was jealous of his finesse. Sarah felt on guard as the Goblin King approached her, preparing for another trip back to her _accommodations_.

Instead, he offered the crystal out to her with beguiling innocence.

Her heart stuttered in her chest at the gesture; it was always so difficult to deny him.

“You wish to return home, don’t you?” He urged her gently, his words dripped like poisoned nectar, choking her on their sweetness. He stood so close to her now, the air between them electric.

The crystal he held swirled with mist, the foggy shapes twisted within their glassy prison into familiar sights, familiar people. She hoped that Jareth wasn’t taking notice of where _home_ was for her. Would he even believe her if she told him who she’d taken as a husband?

“ _Wish_ is a dangerous word.” She flushed at the breathy quality of her voice. She wasn’t accustomed to having Jareth this near, with the tension between them that weighed more than Atlas’s burden and being unable to act on it.

“The most dangerous.” He agreed, “And the most rewarding.” His sultry tones lapped at her like candle flame. “What are we without our wishes, our dreams?”

“What is the price?” Her tone was grim as she tried not to envision what he might demand of her in exchange for his help.

The smug superiority radiating off of him made her want to bury her hands in his hair, yank him forward, and wipe that smirk off his lips herself.

 _You’re married. MARRIED. You cannot kiss the Goblin King._ She reminded herself sternly,

 _Technically, we promised fidelity to Jareth...low and behold...here is Jareth?_ A less restrained part of her mind whispered back.

For the sake of her own sanity, she chose to ignore the recourse her mind suggested.

He hummed consideringly, “You said you like to play games.” His eyes gleamed, “If you can make it back to my castle before the other Runner’s deadline ends then I shall return you to your time.”

That sounded far too agreeable for Jareth.

“All I have to do is beat Adam?” She queried, “That doesn’t sound all that difficult.”

Cold calculation descended upon Jareth. _It could have been worse; she could have compared the task to a certain dessert she was partial to._

“Five hours have already elapsed for Adam Laker; you have eight hours in which to solve the Labyrinth.” He paused after the bold announcement, expecting to see apprehension on her face.

Instead, she shrugged her shoulders. “Eh, it’s doable.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’ll also be starting from the beginning.”

“And should I lose?”

She was reminded quite abruptly that Jareth spent much of his time as a bird of prey. He watched her as Tantalus had despaired as he stood in cool tides that would never quench his burning thirst in dreaded Tartarus.

So close, yet so far.

She knew exactly what kind of game he wanted to play. _He was playing for keeps._

“I’m afraid without my assistance you will just have to remain here with me.” Jareth grinned wickedly. Light pierced the clouds once more and glinted off the talisman around his neck.

She held her hand out to shake the Goblin King’s. “Deal.”

The crystal he had been toying with evaporated into nothingness. He grasped her hand with his own gloved one, firmly but with underlying gentleness. Instead of shaking it, he bowed his head to place a chaste kiss upon the back of her hand.

His lips sent furious sparks, rushing through her veins and firing up her neurons.

So encapsulated was she by his touch and the premature triumph burning in his eyes, that she hadn’t paid attention to her surroundings.

The greenery melted away into burnt oranges and unforgiving winds.

Jareth’s hair was strewn into a halo around his mesmerising face. The stale, ashy air did nothing to mar her appreciation of the view.

He released her hand, beaming in delight over her flustered state. Her other hand came down to rub at the spot Jareth had kissed, still feeling sparks of joy at the memory of his touch.

She really had to stop mooning over Jareth, it wasn’t dignified.

From the outside, the Labyrinth would have seemed foreboding to any unfortunate Runner. Sarah, on the other hand, felt only pride for the aura of menace her lovely Labyrinth was capable of conjuring. Last time she had been in a hurry to complete the Labyrinth, there had been too much at stake; despite having an even shorter deadline, she knew she would reach the castle... _her_ castle in time.

For a brief moment, Sarah considered whether all of this was necessary. Her husband _would_ come to find her and take her home, _he had to._ Jareth’s pride wouldn’t allow him to lose a game between them, time-travel be damned.

Yet, she had so eagerly agreed to _this_ Jareth’s deal when she hadn’t needed to. Sarah could have waited for her husband instead of needlessly risking her freedom.

There was that familiar twinge of anticipation, racing through her blood, the moment the Goblin King had dragooned her into Running the Labyrinth once more. _Her_ Jareth would never ask her to Run the Labyrinth after what happened the second time, especially since he was aware his wife could convince the Labyrinth to conspire against him.

The Jareth of this time was none the wiser.

Sarah worried at her lip thoughtfully, _Thrice-Champion-of-the-Labyrinth did have such a nice ring to it._

 _More like Thrice-Damned,_ another more sensible part of her whispered back mournfully.

“Tick Tock, Sarah.” The Goblin King mocked, drawing her attention to him once more before vanishing in a swirl of silver and sapphire glitter; it cascaded to the ground before winking out of existence.

~*o0o*~

_Rule Three: Stay away from those who might recognise what you are._

“My daringly intelligent masterpiece.” Sarah ran her hand along the main gate, leading into the Labyrinth. She was laying on the flattery a bit thick, but if it had worked to convince her husband to keep his karaoke machine out of their bedroom it would probably work with her Labyrinth.

_Truly, introducing Jareth to the wonders of modern technology had been a double-edged sword._

The door warmed underneath her touch in acknowledgement of being addressed. “If you help lead me back to the castle then I shall negotiate with Feris for more land.” She promised.

Her mind flashed back to the unruly farmer who insisted that his imaginary potato farm was more important than a seventh line of defence around their lands. She could compromise; Feris could be allowed a plot of land within the confines of the maze, _next to The-Bog-of-Eternal-Stench._

“You know that I shall always cherish you, to allow you to grow and flourish.” Sarah crooned, her touch was gentle as the wood felt like it was on the edge of being set ablaze from the Labyrinth’s excitement.

As irate as the Labyrinth had been over her absence, it paled in comparison to its fury over Jareth’s neglect. Running the Labyrinth for the second time had been all the more deadly.

Creeping shadows and poison-tipped barbs poured from the nightmares of the sleeping King as the Labyrinth twisted into a living weapon of malicious torment.

The price of waking the sleeping King had been high.

And a Queen had been born from loss and bloodshed.

A roar of energy flashed through her body as the Labyrinth united them in strength. The silvery dust from the oubliette glittered on her hands in the sunlight and with a slightly impatient rap of her knuckles on the door, it swung open with a smoothness that was incongruent with the aged hinges.

The air shimmered in the doorway like the space above an open flame. Sarah’s view into what was on the other side was distorted beyond comprehension.

The Labyrinth burned in her veins resolutely, it would not lead her into danger.

A frigid wave of ice sunk into her as she stepped through, chilling her to the bone. The unpleasant sensation was swiftly alleviated as Sarah found herself on the outskirts of the Goblin City past its guardian, the castle loomed ever closer. Bypassing catacombs, Fierys, Bogs and rubbish tips was certainly a more favourable option.

A stray thought niggled at the back of her mind that what she had done could be considered cheating. Reviewed under the lens of Jareth’s casual dismissal over her claims of stealing time being ‘not fair’ made her actions seem justifiable. _If Jareth had neglected to impose rules on her then she may solve the Labyrinth however she pleased, even if the Labyrinth itself was a willing participant this time._

“Thank you, my lovely.” She whispered gratefully. She was rewarded with a melodic hum that whistled on the winds, that rushed through the spaces between each and every building, roughly hewn rock in an extensive number of impractical shapes.

A pair of buildings belonging to feuding neighbours were entwined like lovesick branches as their owners quarrelled over Market deals gone awry.

The tiny Market Stall in question sat between one who grew flowers and another that grew the most treacherous of weeds.

Few came to Kelric’s Market. The price of any object no matter how rare or common was the desire for the object itself. A man in desperate need to treat his wife’s illness would leave with a cure he couldn’t bring himself to care to use irrespective of his wife’s pleas.

It was upon this Market Stall that Sarah saw Adam eyeing a map with increasing interest. Along the way, it would seem he had lost his little sword. In all honesty, she felt a bit put out that he was free to peruse the merchandise whilst the citizens of the Goblin City mostly ignored him. _He deserved at least one minor battle against a metal titan of dubious competency._

Sarah scowled at the map, recalling her second Run of the Labyrinth. To this day she wasn’t sure whether she had or hadn’t wanted the map, all she knew was that she wouldn’t be making deals with Kelric again.

The squat creature hopped off their little stool as they regarded her with intrigue. Their single amber eye blinked in surprise as they ducked their head respectfully. Humanoid hands swept the mismatch of obscure goods off their table, bearing it clear.

Adam gave an annoyed squawk as the map leading to the centre of the Labyrinth went sailing to the muddy ground.

“My Lady,” Kelric grinned too brightly at her presence, knowingly. They raised their magenta top hat to her, ruffling their acid green feathers.

It could have just been a casual gesture of respect but Kelric was too much of a pain-in-the-ass to be as ignorant as she hoped.

Adam retrieved the map, brushing off stray pieces of grass and fighting off one of Melaina’s weeds that had thought it would make a good snack. With a particularly vicious pull, he freed the map and barrelled backwards into an unimpressed Sarah.

“Oh, Sarah.” Adam blinked at her. He dusted off his suit, which was miraculously cleaner than it had been when they first met. Idly she wondered if Jareth had fancied him enough to abduct him to his ballroom. _Even if he had, the pretty soap-bubble-daydream would have shattered quickly under the weight of too much male posturing between the two of them._

“You should show some respect.” Kelric hissed at the businessman. Their amber eye shone crimson for a second before they adopted an unassuming smile. “I wouldn’t upset this one.” They paused as they stared into space glassily for a moment, “Then again...maybe it will be an improvement...peaches are a fine fruit.”

Sarah shuddered, even after their issues had been dealt with it was impossible to not be creeped out by the feathered merchant with their unusual voice; it always seemed to echo as if they were stood in the deepest of caverns. Kelric’s penchant for hanging out with the Wise-Man did wonders for their tendency to make ominous statements of great ambiguity.

“Um...yeah...sorry,” Adam responded placatingly. He turned back to Kelric, “How much for the map?” He demanded with all the certainty that his wealth of human gold would be enough. He jabbed at the neatly folded piece of parchment confidently.

Kelric snickered at the unease that passed over Sarah’s face. “How much do you want it?”

Adam gave a groan of aggravation, “Pretty damn badly. I thought that I’d reach the castle no problem but I’ve been walking around this city for too long. I swear that the streets and houses keep changing.” He shuddered. He raked his hair back and closed his eyes for a few moments as he took in deep breaths.

“It’s yours for _as much as you want it_ ,” Kelric responded innocently.

Sarah narrowed her eyes at them, catching on to the familiar phrasing. **‘For as much as you want it’** not **‘As much as you want it for.’**

There was an important distinction between the price they wanted it for and the price of wanting it.

“Brilliant!” Adam beamed at the merchant. He rummaged around in his pockets, pulling out an old fluff-encased-toffee and a black button. He tossed them onto the counter with unbearable smugness, thinking he had outwitted Kelric.

Kelric didn’t protest as Adam gripped the map with reverence, they simply smirked at the pitiful offering knowing what else they had managed to swindle Adam Laker out of.

“A pleasure doing business with you, Mr Laker.” Kelric mocked, inclining their head once more. The toffee and button were encased in golden bubbles before vanishing to who knows where. Sarah bet that they slept on their ill-gotten treasure like a dragon.

Adam hesitated for a moment; he pulled the map behind his back as he watched Sarah warily. She made no attempt to pursue his slowly retreating form, merely raising an eyebrow curiously.

“He told me about you.” The words came out in a rush.

“Hmm.” She replied nonchalantly, “And what did his Highness have to say about me?”

_That she was an evil, spiteful wench that crushed dreams and kicked down Goblin castles for fun was one option._

“He said you’re a ‘Runner’ too.” He waggled his fingers to emphasise the word he had been unfamiliar with earlier. “That you’re trying to beat me back to the castle.”

“Yes.” She agreed pleasantly, “You better get to it before your time runs out.”

His eyes widened at her blasé dismissal. “I’m going to win.” He bit out.

“My victory is contingent on beating your time, _yours_ isn’t.” Sarah frowned, “ Unless you made any such deal with the Goblin King then our victories aren’t mutually exclusive.” She reasoned.

From the way, he rapidly paled at the mention of her _almost-husband_ it would seem that she wasn’t the only one prone to making terrible life choices.

Adam swayed slightly where he stood. Decisively, he shoved the map up his shirt beneath his blazer. She wondered what deal he could have made that warranted such caution when talking to her.

Sarah made a valiant effort to ignore Kelric’s giggling next to her. They made an odd snipping gesture with their fingers, their red claws clacked together noisily.

Adam noticed the gesture and let out a frustrated sigh. “He offered me a shortcut straight to the city, in exchange I have to beat you to the castle. Said it would be easy.” He muttered bitterly, gazing down at his dirt-encrusted slip-ons. “He said you were all the way at the beginning, that there was no way you’d get there first.”

He slammed his fist into 

the wall of the public library, which in reality just displayed a collection of odd-shaped leaves in glass cases inside.

“I haven’t been able to leave this damnable city for ages!” His fist sunk into the wall as if it were soft clay. He pulled back sharply as an ear-splitting wail began to ring out from the building.

Kelric sniffed contemptuously, “You should really apologise to it.”

“To a building!” Adam demanded disbelievingly.

Sarah covered her ears as the building continued to wail in dismay. Adam patted it uncertainly; his fingers came back covered in greyish sludge.

“There, there.” He tried, “My bad.” The building gave one last sniffle before returning to stony silence. Sarah preferred being given the cold-shoulder to listening to the Library’s sobs.

Looking more unnerved than before, he turned to Sarah, “I just want everything to go back to normal, no more Goblins, no more sketchy deals.” He listed in his fingers, “And no more Bogs-of-Eternal-Stench.”

“Sketchy but painfully true, you will not find a more literal agreement than the ones made down here.” She found herself defending Jareth. “Whatever he offered you was genuine.”

Adam shuddered, “Oh yeah, the sparkly man that stole my kid seemed real trustworthy. He can take my dreams and shove the-“

Sarah raised a finger to her own lips warningly with a sound of admonishment. “I really wouldn’t finish that sentence. You’ll give him ideas.”

Adam threw her a look of disgust. “Well, I’ll be on my way then.” He eyed her appraisingly, “Unless you want to join forces to get ourselves out of this never-ending loop of monotony, we could go back to competing after.” He offered hopefully.

“Kchssszzz! Sorry! You’re breaking up.” She began to emit a number of highly improbable sounds, ranging from clicking her tongue to humming loudly. Sarah didn’t break eye contact as she deliberately stepped back from him.

He stared at her dumbfounded. “You’re literally stood in front of me.”

She didn’t drop her deadpan look of seriousness while continuing to crackle in the least believable way possible.

“It seems that you’re out of range,” Kelric added solemnly to back her up.

He sneered at her, “How cute, Sweetheart. Don’t come begging for my help when you’re stumbling around alone.” He pulled the map out from under his shirt to wave it at her threateningly, _how she feared the potential papercut._ “Besides, I have this.” He spun on his heel and marched back in the direction of the gate leading out of the city.

“You didn’t tell him about the map,” Kelric spoke with no small amount of glee.

“Neither did you, not really,” Sarah responded wearily. If Jareth had given Adam what he perceived to be a shortcut he was either messing with him by having the human confront something far worse or it was all a ploy to ensure she’d never win and be trapped with this version of the Goblin King forever.

 _Why not both?_ Part of her whispered moodily, _he wants to have his cake and eat it, and by cake..._

 _SHUT UP!_ She hissed back at her traitorous thoughts.

“Kelric...” She started. They turned to watch her attentively, “Did I used to want the map...before...you know...” She trailed off uncertainly.

They tilted their head to the side, regarding her with amusement. “Before you chose to stay?” They finished for her.

She nodded slowly, fearing the answer that had gnawed away at the back of her mind for years.

Kelric chuckled at her blatant discomfort. “You chose what you chose; maybe you wanted the map and maybe you didn’t.”

“But you know whether I wanted it?” She confirmed.

“Oh yes.” They grinned with blackened teeth, “But there would be no fun in telling you. Better run back to _your_ castle, My Lady.”

With all the dignity of a Queen she scowled at them menacingly, _this was not her sulking expression regardless of what her husband claimed._

“I’ll be seeing you.” She warned.

“It will be my pleasure.” Their voice reverberated off the sharp edges of her panicked thoughts as they leered at her.

It was for mature and completely rational reasons that the irate burn of the Labyrinth coiled through her veins found catharsis through the unexpected opening of the ground beneath the Market Stall, taking said owner and his wares with it to an unknown location.

_It was probably filled with spiders, big hairy ones that ate overstuffed birds with God Complexes, s_ he thought viciously in the direction of the newly fledged abyss beneath the trees and betwixt the flowers. The pleased hum of agreement from the Labyrinth in her mind confirming that this was true was also in no way satisfactory.

She’d delayed enough already. She could forge a path through the Labyrinth, causing the walls to shift to accommodate a straight and uncomplicated route to the castle. However, she didn’t want to give Adam the chance to follow her after he inevitable discards the map he no longer wants.

Guiltily, she wondered for a second whether she should let Adam win; he was so close to retrieving his daughter and she didn’t want to be the cause of his failure.

Then she thought of her _actual-husband_ , the one who wasn’t making her Run the Labyrinth for his sick glee _this time_. And her child. Their sweet little Avery who played with Goblins and loved the colour lilac, a child she would lay waste to Kingdoms for. One petty mortal who didn’t seem that interested in reclaiming his own kid wasn’t going to stand in her way.

With that thought, a low tug in her a gut and a prickling behind her eyes preceded the appearance of a new doorway. The empty archway reflected the park ahead of them and the copse of trees. Sarah knew something else lay behind it.

With a smirk she stepped forward into the archway, wondering if taking less than an hour to solve the Labyrinth would cause Jareth to spontaneously combust into a cloud of enraged glitter.

~*o0o*~

_Rule Four: Do not tell those who reside in the past of future events._

Sarah stepped into the throne room. Yes, she _stepped_. There was neither a fanfare nor a dramatic shower of sparks, she just simply stepped into the room.

As underwhelming as her entry was, _though she would argue a magic door has its own charms,_ she was rather disappointed to be met only by a hoard of Goblins, rather than their charmingly villainous King.

The Goblins in question hadn’t noticed her entrance, they were rather absorbed in their own activities. Without the maudlin temper of their King, the meek and cautious behaviour she witnessed before had vanished.

Several Goblins were wrestling in a pit, an enormous but dusty pot of honey was being tossed between them before being wrenched out of small scabby arms into a pair of larger hairier ones.

One Goblin was painting the flagstones at the foot of the throne with a series of strange glyphs that upon further inspection turned out to be really shaky stick-figures, drawn in what Sarah really hoped was mud.

The uproarious racket they made as they cheerily caused wanton destruction to the room was familiar enough to make her heart ache with the desire to return to her own Kingdom.

Her eyes swept the room before being drawn to a corner on the right. A miserable cry that had previously been masked by the brawling Goblins now filled the air. A bulky looking Goblin wearing a helmet with a broken visor was tossing a child up into the air.

Sarah rushed forward in an instant. Seeing the determined stride of The Labyrinth Champion, quiet descended upon the room. A Goblin with iridescent blue scales leapt out of her way with a shriek of fear and took the baby from the Helmet-Clad-One. She paused in front of the Goblin, an invisible barrier prevented her from reaching down and taking the child. The Blue-One held the child aloft in offering to Sarah with its eyes screwed shut in abject terror.

“Peach-Lady has won back the child!” It declared. “No need to knock down houses.” It tacked on hopefully, squinting at her through its closed eyelids.

An invitation was an invitation.

A child couldn’t be taken when it wasn’t offered. She was bound to the same rules as her husband. 

Feeling the barrier dissolve she pushed forward past the tingling afterimage of the Labyrinthine binding magic.

She picked the child up carefully; the baby peered up at her tearfully through wet lashes. Gently, she began to rock the child instead of precariously hurling it through the air as the Goblins had been. The baby’s dark hair was mussed and her pink polka dot covered babygrow was rumpled untidily.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Sarah murmured to the baby. “Abbigail.” She tried the name that Adam had spoken before.

The baby wailed harder at the sound of her own name.

“Oh, dear.” She continued to hold the shrieking baby, it made her wistful to hold this child when she longed to return to her own. Avery had never been a particularly noisy baby, for which she and Jareth had been thankful for. Whenever he had had difficulty sleeping Jareth had been all too eager to sing to him.

There was a soft flutter in her chest as she thought of the way Jareth sang to their son, all the while casting flickering shadows of small animals and showering him with swathes of glitter.

Glitter wasn’t really her style, singing however, she could just about manage.

She took a deep breath and glanced around at the Goblins near her, self consciously. Whilst Jareth was comfortable cavorting and crooning in front of his subjects, she had always been the more reticent one.

Many a time she had allowed him to cajole her into singing along with him, with a few whispered words and his warm breath on the back of her neck. Here, without him, she just felt a bit silly.

“Sing Lady! Sing!” Chimed a tiny rat shaped creature with bushy red eyebrows.

“Lady not sing to baby.” Rebuked a pot-bellied Goblin with tusks. “That’s Kingy’s job.”

“Okay.” She swallowed, noticing the rapt looks of attention on the Goblin’s faces, none of which had cottoned on to the fact the child they handed over wasn’t hers. She adjusted Abbigail in her arms, so she was holding the baby in a more comfortable and less restrictive way.

“ **Come little children...I’ll take thee away**.” She began quietly enough, trying not to cringe at the sound of her own voice echoing off the tall twisting ceilings and impossible walls. “ **Into a land of enchantment.** ” Her voice grew stronger as the Goblins started to burble along with their own nonsensical lyrics about chickens.

“ **Come little children...the time’s come to play**.” She continued, a smile crossed her face as the lights dimmed. “ **Here in my garden of shadows**.” It had taken a long time for Jareth to realise the song was a reference to a film with magical child kidnappers. Suffice to say he was less than pleased about the lullaby she had taken to singing to their son.

A Goblin tripped over its beard in its eagerness to approach her and the baby. “ **By shadows and magic, the babe here is bound.** ”

“ **Here in our Lab’rinth forever**.” The large hairy one growled out in agreement.

She couldn’t fault them for trying to pick up the melody, but the lyrics they chose were slightly disturbing. They weren’t exactly the back-up singers she would have chosen and she almost preferred their verses about chickens. 

Sarah had every intention of returning the child to Adam when he came a calling for her.

Since they randomly inserted new words into the song Sarah tried to pick up the song from a later verse. “ **Hush now dear children...it must be this way**.”

She tried to quieten her singing thinking it would deter the Goblins from joining in again but it felt as though the Labyrinth had latched onto her voice and was drawing it out of her into the open room with gusto. “ **Too weary of life and deceptions**...”

The baby stared up at her with wide eyes, her bottom lip trembled but no sound came out. With a triumphant grin, Sarah began to spin them around the room, rocking the child while turning in slow circles so the faces of the Goblins blurred.

“ **Rest my dear children...for soon we’ll away**.” She sang merrily, ignoring the Goblins who began to throw themselves about and spin around clumsily in an imitation of her movement.

“ **Ne’er to taste Above’s light again**.” Another voice joined in, dangerously saccharine and melodic.

Sarah ceased her rotation of the room, her eyes snapped up to see Jareth, lazily sprawled in his throne as if he had been there all along.

Abbigail let out a soft mumble of disjointed syllables before lolling her head against Sarah’s chest peacefully.

Sarah felt a flush of embarrassment colour her cheeks as she kept her eyes on the baby and away from Jareth’s compelling stare. She felt his eyes scrutinising her unabashedly like a wave of heat rolling over her and seeping into her pores.

“If you’re all just going to make up your own lyrics, I don’t see much point in me singing the song.” Sarah chided, there was no real venom behind her words, just a weary reluctance to face her _not-husband_ again _._

Looking upon him induced a craving that would sear through her soul and only be sated by reaching out to touch him. She would have balled her hands into fists had she not been holding the child still, at least she was occupied in some way.

“How ever did you reach the castle so fast, Dearest?” He rose to his feet and made a flicking gesture with his hands, silently dismissing the Goblins.

There were a number of grumbles as they trudged out of the room as slowly as they were capable of, dragging chickens behind them. One Goblin went to retrieve the much sought after jar of honey but a glare alone from Jareth was enough to discourage its attempt, so it sloped away.

“I’m familiar with the neighbourhood.” She responded with her eyes downcast. The term of endearment rolling off his tongue heated her blood, even though she was sure he had meant it in jest.

He walked down the steps, smearing the pictures left by one of the Goblins under his heeled boots. Sarah kept her eyes locked on the talisman around his neck, resting tantalisingly on bare flesh revealed from the open navy blue poet shirt he wore.

Before she knew it he was once again in her personal space. A gloved hand cupped her under the chin to raise her head. She didn’t resist the directing of his hand, though he applied little enough pressure that she could decline his bid to see her face had she wished to.

She swallowed, feeling trapped by his eyes, half amused half frustrated. She wanted to capture his hand in hers and hold it tight, to pull him even closer to her and cease what she knew to be another argument brewing by stoppering his mouth with her own.

_Why did everything have to be so complicated?_

She could tell him there was no need for them to fight, that he had ceased to be a villain in her mind long ago. _She could tell him of a future of happiness...and love._

_But, telling him now could irrevocably change her future in ways she couldn’t yet comprehend._

Sarah drew in a deep breath and took a step back. Standing too close to him made her heart pound and her head spin. The decades she had spent with _her_ Jareth had not eased the impact he had on her nervous system.

She saw a frown etch into Jareth’s face as he noted her retreat. He withdrew his hand. For a moment he gazed at her with such tenderness as his attention flickered back and forth between her and the baby she held in her arms.

The softness faded, once again pushed beneath a calculating exterior.

“And how did you develop such a keen familiarity?” He mused aloud. He summoned a crystal and started to idly roll it around in his palms. A glint entered his eye as he noted Sarah’s cautious scrutiny. “Have you wished many more children away, perhaps that helped you refine your skillset.” He drawled.

She flinched at the accusation. The baby in her arms felt like a leaden weight.

Her husband hadn’t taunted her about her foolish youthful decision making in years. There were some wounds that were best not poked, especially since she would brandish her own hot poker and lay her words of victory and damnation into his skin in retaliation.

“Tell me, why did you take this child?” He nodded at Abbigail. “She is no concern of yours.”

With forced levity, she answered the Goblin King coolly, “I figured I should pay you back for the thirteen hours in which you so _generously_ babysat my little brother.”

She could be bitter too.

He stared at her coldly, “I was rather generous, as you have kindly reminded me.”

 _Peace._ She desired peace between them. _Things would never progress amiably if they kept biting each other’s heads off._

Sarah offered out Abbigail to him. _It was a strange enough olive branch but what was a more apt display of trust than a baby willingly offered to the Goblin King?_

He blinked at her slowly for a moment, uncertain whether this was a trick. Carefully he extricated the sleeping child from her arms. He brushed a hand against the girls’ forehead and a pleased smile crossed his face.

Jareth waved a hand over Abbigail and the baby vanished. Had she not known of the well cared for nurseries that dwelled within the castle walls she would have felt some degree of alarm. As things stood, it was better that there was somewhere the child could be watched attentively rather than be used as a pawn in their discourse.

“It would seem that your skill for child care has improved over the years,” Jareth spoke grudgingly. “Though I daresay, anything would be an improvement on your last foray into babysitting.” He tacked on snidely.

Sarah glared at him.

“If you’re quite finished. I’d like to go home now.” She announced imperiously. She’d had enough of this bizarre fever dream and couldn’t care less if her husband won their little game. Watching this cruel sneering parody of her husband hurt too much.

“Oh, you would, would you?” His face darkened and the air around them tasted of ozone, foretelling the surging storm held at bay. “You’re not going to say your right words?”

 _You have no power over me..._ They rested on the tip of her tongue, waiting...waiting...

_Through annoyances untold and stubborn arguments unnumbered..._

She opened her mouth to deny him but the words caught in her throat and burned, more painful than any attempted lie that came before.

Jareth watched her draw breath sharply with a pained expression as her eyes darted around wildly. His body tensed, prepared to watch his world crumble away into a barren shell that reflected his poorly concealed internal misery.

She could force the words out, though it would be like drinking from a stream of lava. Technically this Jareth had no ties to her, no power, and no right to hold her here in his domain. And yet she knew the words would also be largely untrue.

Jareth had the power to make her smile, the power to set her heart racing and most importantly he had power over every ounce of love she was capable of feeling.

True or untrue.

It mattered not, Sarah wasn’t going to wrench the words free from the deep recesses of her mind.

_Not the phrase that would wound him the most._

“The words seem to elude me.” She spoke at last. The bitter aftertaste of her careful side-step of the truth was nothing compared to the alternative.

He jolted at the unexpected words, hope warred with suspicion as he crushed the crystal in his palm into dust in his surprise. Sarah watched the trail of silver particles fall from between his fingers, the shimmer of its residue reminded her of the silver dust that laced her own hands from before.

“What a pity,” Jareth smirked. He then gestured around the room to the narrow wall that several Goblins had been perched on before. “Well, make yourself at home.”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed, “You stipulated that I need only reach the castle and you would send me home.” A sense of unease tugged at her, _give Jareth an inch and he’d take a mile._ Offering him her kindness may turn out to be her folly.

“And so I shall. “

He grinned, he swept his arms in an arc and the walls around the groaned in protest. Something deep within Sarah could sense that the Labyrinth was being rearranged, spiky limbs tugged at her and spiralled out within her mind.

“You just never specified, _when_ I should return you home, Sarah.”

Sarah shook her head rapidly. “No.”

“Yes!” He hissed back in delight, his eyes dancing with manic energy. “Perhaps in a few days...or years.” He reached out to caress her flushed face once more.

She remained stock still, her mind whirling furiously in an attempt to out-manoeuvre her scheming cheat of a _not-husband_. She really should have known better.

She grabbed his hand and yanked it away from her face viciously, “Why should you desire for me to stay so long when my being here clearly enrages you. Wouldn’t you rather be free of me, Goblin King.” She entreated.

She saw the barely concealed annoyance flicker across his face as she used his title in lieu of his name. His fingers curled into a fist as soon as he was deprived of her touch.

“Perhaps you will find that you wish to rescind your words,” he responded silkily. “It is clear that you are already familiar with my lands and well-liked enough by the Labyrinth to be guided with such ease.” 

“I’m not staying in this time.” She retorted angrily, “I have a family to get back to.”

He raised an eyebrow, displaying his indifference to her plight. “And how old is dear Toby? Not so young as to rely on your care any longer I wager.” His eyes heated up like burning embers, “You could stay here with me; leave all of your responsibilities behind.” There was enough control in his voice to avoid it sounding like an outright plea yet both of them knew it was more than a casual offer.

“I can’t. I’m no longer a teenager that can be enticed by pretty words.” It pained her to watch his face fall, the brief milliseconds where he lost control over his calm facade. “I must return to my _husband._ He’s looking for me.” She stressed the word husband in the vain hope that she could finally discourage Jareth from keeping her here.

Jareth’s constant posturing and preening ceased. A hollow expression befell his face as he regarded her with anguish before that too was concealed.

“Husband? “ He croaked out. He had heard her clearly, yet hoped desperately he had been mistaken.

Sarah nodded cautiously, “Yes, my husband of fifty years. He was the one I was playing with in the Labyrinth before I ended up here. He’ll be wondering where I am.”

She watched Jareth’s jaw tighten at her admission. Before her eyes, his navy shirt bled to inky black and the lights grew dimmer still. Sarah flinched at the alarming sound of splintering stone as one of the pillars cracked and a segment of the ceiling fell to the ground in a pile of dust.

“Then he will have to wonder.” Fire blazed in Jareth’s eyes as he barely acknowledged the disrepair of his own throne room. “You stumbled into my domain, there are consequences.”

“You can’t keep me here forever.” She reminded him sternly, “You must uphold your own words.” The dawning sense that he meant to entrap her and hold her in verbal chains nagged at her.

“And so I shall.” His lips curled up into a cruel facsimile of a smile. “Eternity shy of a day seems barely long enough but I believe I will manage.”

This Jareth was different; he still saw her as a possession, something to be conquered. _Could he even fathom that one day she would choose to stay with him of her own volition?_

She had made the mistake of seeing _this_ Jareth as her beloved, her husband when he still had far to go before becoming the one she loved.

This was the Goblin King, jealous, possessive and willing to take whatever he desired through trickery.

“And what of my son, Avery?” She declared, allowing some of her own longing to become visible. “Am I to be kept from my baby for a day less than forever?”

As cruel as the Goblin King was he had an undeniable soft spot for children, his sworn duty to take the unwanted and test the unworthy ensured his devotion for the wellbeing of babes.

The castle walls began to rumble tremulously. She cringed as the sound from above warned of a balcony falling into the gardens beneath.

The Labyrinth’s own turmoil churned within her as it protested its destruction at the hands of the Goblin King’s rage.

“Damn you, Sarah.” He whispered, his tone flat and as empty as a starless sky besieged by storm clouds. He cupped her face in the palms of his hands that once sparked full of malicious power. “Damn you.” He muttered again hopelessly as he stared into her eyes beseeching her to take back the words that meant he couldn’t be selfish. “I shall not keep you from your child.” He vowed solemnly.

“You won’t?” Sarah tried not to lean into the warmth of his gloved hands, into the closeness of his body, so teasingly near. She should pull away again, do everything within her power to discourage him. She knew what she had been doing when she invoked the name of her son. The Goblin King wouldn’t separate mother from son unless she forsook him.

Jareth sighed and rested his forehead against Sarah’s, letting the long strands of his hair dance against her face.

Guilt brewed in the pit of Sarah’s stomach at Jareth’s despair. She tried to remedy her remorse by consoling herself with the knowledge that things wouldn’t always be this way, one day she would stay.

Jareth wouldn’t be alone forever.

“I won’t.” He repeated. He drew back with a rueful smile. “I should have suspected that you would best me again.” He admitted.

“That isn’t-”

“Whatever your intentions.” He cut her off, holding a hand out. “The result is the same. I shall return you to your time after the Runner has been dealt with if that is what you wish.”

Sarah nodded grimly. She would not thank him for upholding a promise he should have kept without coercion.

The Goblin King gazed at her thoughtfully. There was another shudder, a surge of dust and cobwebs fell from the ceiling as though the Labyrinth had shaken them off like a great beast engulfed in water.

“Avery.” He tasted the name carefully. There was a sharp zing of power that hung in the air above them at the utterance of their son’s name. “I am surprised you would gift me with your child’s name.”

Sarah shivered, watching a thousand plans surge forth and twist through the depths of Jareth’s mind. “You wouldn’t hurt my child.” She spoke with resolute confidence. _You wouldn’t hurt your own son, aware of his relationship with you or not._

Sarah began to dread the result of divulging even more future events, as sparse in detail as they were. She couldn’t help but feel like she was making a terrible mistake.

She certainly didn’t like the grin threatening to break across Jareth’s face.

“No,” he agreed. “I would not hurt him.”

~*o0o*~

_Rule Five: Do not interfere with the fates of those who came before you._

An elaborate clock hung in the air between them. It reminded Sarah of the one her Grandfather had carved for her Grandmother with its soft golden wood and hand-painted roman numerals in cobalt blue. A great pendulum swung back and forth, or more precisely it vibrated in a dizzying blur as the hands of the clock whirled around at an incredible pace.

Shadows in the room shifted as the sunlight peering through the windows bled in and swept them away on a radiant tide.

A deep sense of unease settled upon Sarah. The Goblin King had claimed that he wouldn’t return her until the Runner had been dealt with, so that ruled out the slight chance that he was feeling benevolent enough to just let her go.

Winter Garden Parties aside, messing around with time was... _well_ , a messy business.

An old enemy had taught Sarah well.

_“Where are you running to, Would-Be-Queen? No King for you to save or be saved from now. There is nowhere to run to...no **when** to run to...”_

Poor Lyreia.

 _Not so poor,_ she amended. As horrible as her fate had been, Sarah wouldn’t change what had happened, not after all she did at the misguided behest of Jareth’s sister.

_Enemies, as dear as any friend carve their own little places into our hearts. They burrow deep inside like a maggot; left unchecked they can rot you from the inside out._

“What are you doing? Are you taking away time from Adam?” Sarah demanded.

Jareth slowly lowered his hand, she caught a glimpse of the time, **twelve-thirty,** before the clock vanished into whatever abyss it had been summoned from.

The Goblin King raised an eyebrow in challenge, “Are you afraid I’m being _unfair_?” He smiled condescendingly, “I’m merely speeding things up a little, not taking time from the Runner. It is so dreadfully tedious to watch someone run around in circles for hours on end.” He paused consideringly, “Or limp.”

The Goblin King revelled in making a mockery of his Runners; to induce such boredom in him, Adam must be in a sorry state indeed, Sarah reasoned.

“I meant to ask you about him.” Jareth nodded for her to continue, “What were the exact terms of the deal you made with Adam Laker?” It was the precise wording she desired. Adam had alluded to the fact he would lose if Sarah made it to the castle first; she wasn’t heartless enough to not even attempt to help reunite him with his daughter.

Jareth gave a huff of irritation, with a loose twist of his wrist he summoned a crystal. The sunlight breaking into the room illuminated swirling motes of dust and was redirected to set the sphere aglow.

A voice that Sarah had only become familiar with recently rang out from the crystal.

 **“Fine! Fine! I’ll do it.”** The voice snapped **, “You get me away from this Godforsaken bog to the city and in return, I’ll make it to the castle before Sarah so I can win.”**

Sarah chewed on her lip thoughtfully, trying to ignore the way Jareth’s attention sharply switched from the crystal in his hand to her lips.

There wasn’t much there to reinterpret; Sarah had made it to the castle before Adam, ergo Adam had lost before his time was even up. It was little wonder that the Goblin King had tired of the Runner so quickly.

“Satisfied?” Jareth asked dryly. “Even if I didn’t stipulate that he had to reach the castle before you it would be exceedingly unlikely that he’d win.”

“And why is that?” She humoured him, he was always so quick to condemn the Runners.

The Goblin King let out a sound of exasperation, “Half an hour remains. Despite practically leading him to the front door of the castle the fool has managed to stumble in the opposite direction, out of the city and into Ayra’s Garden.”

 _Ayra..._ the name filled her with wistfulness. The Garden belonging to Jareth’s sister no longer stood in the Labyrinth of her time. Both King and Labyrinth had wished to scorch it from the grounds and from memory.

Jareth seemed mystified over the contrition painted across Sarah’s face. He cleared his throat quietly to regain her attention. “I’m going to inform the Runner that they have lost; do you wish to remain here?”

Sarah shoved thoughts of Ayra from her head; they would do her no good here. “No, I’ll come with you.”

A warm tingly feeling assaulted her insides at the surprised smile that flashed across the Goblin King’s face. He offered his hand to her and she grasped it without hesitation. She enjoyed watching the way his pupils dilated at her touch and proximity, glad that she wasn’t the only one trying to hide something.

“Let us be off then, Precious Thing.” He murmured lowly. She couldn’t help but shiver as the sparks of his magic washed over her and settled on her skin.

Sarah blinked dazedly as her surroundings twisted and rippled, she held onto Jareth throughout it all, trusting him not to change his mind and dump her in another oubliette.

Once again, she was surrounded by greenery instead of the more muted sandy browns that made up many of the Labyrinth’s walls. A circle of trees lined the small garden; the crowning jewel in the centre was an ornate fountain.

A glass monolith of incredible beauty made of thousands of deadly shards of glass stood tall, golden liquid poured from it like the sweet nectar of flowers that clung to the lips of the Gods. The base was beset with a myriad of jewels that would make Hoggle weep with envy.

Kneeling at the foot of Ayra’s fountain was Adam Laker. Somehow along his journey, he had retrieved the sword that he had flaunted so casually and lost. Except now, the sword was half its original length, the gleaming wooden handle and a chipped blade with a jagged point remained. He seemed to be using the sword to pry away at the emeralds and sapphires that studded the crystalline basin.

Sarah had to concur with Jareth, this Runner was completely hopeless. They weren’t within the city limits anymore and he would be hard-pressed to make his way back there to the castle within half an hour. 

“I very much doubt you will find your daughter in a handful of gems, Mortal.” The Goblin King taunted as he swept along the path to stand before the fountain. He still hadn’t released Sarah’s hand as he led her to the Runner; she could see fury raging behind Jareth’s icy disdain. To defile one of the great treasures of the Labyrinth, and one that stood as a monument to the King’s sister no less was an unforgivable act.

Without thinking she squeezed his hand in a gesture of comfort; with great interest, she saw his glacial looks thaw somewhat as he squeezed her hand back slowly with hesitation as if unaccustomed to it.

Adam startled so badly he managed to smack his forehead into the fountain. He groaned loudly and staggered to his feet to glare at Jareth through unfocused eyes.

Carefully Sarah extricated herself from Jareth’s grip so that she could approach the Runner. She missed the dark look the Goblin King shot at Adam as she reached out to steady him.

“It seems you’re always the worse for wear,” Sarah commented sympathetically.

She wasn’t sure what compelled her to reach out for Adam; so far he’d left a lasting impression that hadn’t sat right but situations tended to go advantageously for Sarah if she could bring the suspicious party to trust her.

 _To temp and to test..._ She and Jareth were two sides of the same coin.

He nodded his thanks to her and patted her on the shoulder in a manner befitting the treatment of a horse; Sarah edged away from Adam keeping a placid smile on her face.

“Thanks, Sweetheart. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He flashed her a grin which withered and died under Jareth’s not-so-subtle glare. His suit wasn’t as clean as it had been in the Goblin City but it was by no means in the state of disrepair it had been when they first met, merely muddied slightly.

Adam eyed the sword he left on the ground before returning his gaze to the Goblin King, he seemed unwilling to reach down and pick it up as though expecting Jareth to strike him when he was unaware.

“Am I really?” Sarah mused, “You didn’t seem all that fond of me the last time we spoke.”

“Run out of buildings to converse with?” Jareth joined in mockingly.

Adam sneered at Jareth defiantly, “This place is messed up, I grant you, but it does have some redeeming qualities.” He turned to Sarah pensively, “Did you make it to the castle, Sarah?”

Sarah felt guilt tug at her chest as she nodded at Adam sadly. “Yes, I’m afraid I made it to the castle before you.”

Adam snorted, “I figured. You seemed to know what you were doing; I guess it was all for nothing.”

“What a pity.” Jareth retorted. He conjured a crystal which rolled off his fingers and floated in the air between them like a fragile bubble. It popped and in its place the clock from before appeared.

 **_Twenty-seven_ ** _minutes left._

“Perhaps you could have made it, had you not made a deal for that shortcut.” He jeered. Jareth snapped his fingers and the clock vanished once more. “As it stands your Run is over and the child belongs to the Labyrinth.”

Sarah attempted to ignore the deep rumble of contentment that radiated from the Labyrinth and settled upon her mind like a cosy blanket. She watched Adam’s face twist with anguish and fear as Jareth continued to lord his victory over the Runner. _The whole thing irritated her to no end, the man had already lost, what was the point of deriding his efforts?_

Adam turned his venomous gaze on Jareth, shaking with repressed emotion. “You knew this would happen. Did I have any chance at all or was the whole thing a trap?” He pointed a finger at him accusingly.

The beginnings of a plan started to form in Sarah’s mind. As cunning as Jareth had been when restricting the Runner it was clear he had been overconfident in believing such a deal couldn’t be twisted in any way.

 _“But if you turn it this way and look into it...”_ Her husband’s voice echoed in her head hauntingly.

“Technically,” Sarah began. She watched Jareth’s eyes flash dangerously, warning her to not attempt the ill-fated plan brewing in her mind. “You didn’t specify that he had to beat me to the castle while I was Running the Labyrinth. All he has to do is cross the threshold before me, like _one_ time.” She raised her index finger in emphasis.

“Why are you making such a point?” His voice came out stilted as a decidedly sour expression crossed his face.

“You are so vigilant about holding people to the right words.” She taunted back, still annoyed over his attempt to keep her here despite winning. She turned to smile at Adam comfortingly, “What I’m saying is, if you hurry up and head to the castle with me, then step through the door first you’d still have a chance to get your daughter back.”

_Ha, and Jareth thought he was the generous one._

Sarah’s glee began to fade as she noticed Adam didn’t seem overjoyed by her proposal; he was staring at the Goblin King consideringly. Adam patted his blazer; the audible crinkle of paper became apparent as he pulled a crumpled map from his suit. He smoothed the sheet down and frowned at it.

“This was supposed to lead me to the castle.” He spoke aloud, scrutinising the map, “And yet, when I looked at the routes and saw names like Horrifying-Death-Pit-of-Spikes or Exciting-Rock-of-Misfortune...I just...” He shook his head, “The map showed other things, like this fountain.” He gestured to it in its jewel-studded glory with a dreamy expression. “Have you any idea what this kind of stuff is worth?”

“Adam.” She spoke slowly, “You should really ignore the map, it wasn’t created to help you, far from it actually.”

Put out by Sarah’s declaration that the game was still on, Jareth tossed his hair back in a dismissive gesture. “By all means use your map Businessman, with or without it I shall claim your child as my prize and you shall be left with nothing but your regrets when you lose.”

He stuffed the map away roughly, uncaring if he tore or creased it. Adam’s eyes lit up suddenly as he grinned at Sarah. “Sketchy but painfully true!” He practically shouted in her ear.

“I’m sorry?” She took a step back to stand nearer to Jareth in fear of being deafened by the man.

Sarah didn’t at all like the vicious gleam in the Runner’s eyes.

“You said whatever that guy offered me was genuine.” He jerked a thumb in Jareth’s direction.

“That guy-“ Jareth started to protest, affronted.

Adam ran his fingers through his hair, casting short jerky looks between the two of them. His fingers ended up caught in a section of his mangled locks that was stuck together with dried mud and leaves, he tugged aggressively to free his hand and almost ended up pulling out a clump of hair.

“Everything that I want.” Adam breathed. His gaze flickered to Sarah again. “I didn’t think he was telling the truth before when he offered me my dreams. He didn’t seem all that willing to show me a contract.” He met the Goblin King’s eyes resolutely, “But, if I still haven’t lost yet then I have the power to negotiate.”

“Word of mouth is binding enough, as you’ve learnt for yourself.” Jareth reminded him. The King regarded him with disdain as he noted the abrupt change in the Runner’s motivations.

“But you chose to cast that aside, for your daughter.” Sarah urged the rumpled businessman. She turned to Jareth worriedly, anticipating what Adam was on the brink of asking.

Jareth held her gaze unflinchingly. He would not apologise for doing his duty to the Labyrinth.

Adam chuckled to himself. “I was a fool to think that trying to beat this place was the best option.” He swaggered over to Jareth arrogantly, “I’ve been looking at this the wrong way. I summoned you, I employed you to do a service and now you shall grant me my request as is due to me.”

Jareth’s face twisted with rage. “Wish well human, if you forfeit your child for your desires there is no turning back.”

Adam threw his hands in the air. “This place is insane. I never had a chance anyway.”

Sarah approached him, stepping gingerly. The Labyrinth could sense the discontent of its Rulers, it washed through her mind and burned on the tips of her fingers; its power was hers, always hers.

The sky opened and rain began to fall. It was a paltry balm to Sarah and Jareth’s disgust for a man that would trade his child without regret for some measure of meaningless riches.

The Labyrinth’s meagre comfort was second to its hunger. While it did not desire the pain of its Monarchs the Labyrinth craved the connection to the new child that it was promised; more vital than lifeblood was its insatiable appetite.

A great gurgle erupted from the glass fountain; the honey-hued water spurted out in a great surge before easing once more to a sedate stream.

“Don’t you want your daughter back?” She asked softly. Adam meant less to her than the worms beneath the soil she stood on, but she would beseech him on Abbigail’s behalf, for a child that could not plead for her father.

Adam screwed his face up in consternation. “It’s too much, a baby, a harpy of an ex. I need a new start.” He was studiously avoiding looking at Jareth, as pompous as he had been seconds ago it would seem the man still had some sense about him. “You understand right? You’re a Runner like me.”

A curl of embarrassment lurched through her as she recalled her selfishness from when she had been mortal. She, more than anyone, had little right to chastise a Runner for wishing away a child. Sarah had effectively wished a King away in all the ways that mattered. She did, however, have the right to vilify them for _giving up_ on their charges.

_Not for all the mornings of gold and valentine evenings had she bowed._

The Goblin Queen demanded no less from those worthy enough to reclaim their children.

“I was.” She relented, “But I persevered and won my brother back. It isn’t too late for you to do the same.”

Adam’s face contorted into a grimace, “If it was so easy for you to win back your brother, then how come you’re a Runner again?” He pulled on his hair in aggravation, “It’s better that I cut my losses now and get something out of it than futilely attempt to get Abbigail back in,” He twisted his wrist so he could read his watch, “ **twenty-three** minutes.”

The skies above the garden grew overcast as Jareth smiled at Adam sardonically; his chilly expression shot through the Labyrinth like ice, so potently that Sarah could feel an echo of it in her veins. “How clever. Of course, you wouldn’t have been able to negotiate had Sarah not intervened on your behalf.”

Sarah felt her insides twist into knots as a feeling of queasiness descended on her. She tried not to flinch as Jareth’s cold, insincere smile was cast towards her. She’d only wanted to give Adam another chance to retrieve his daughter; Running the Labyrinth wasn’t easy to do when you’re alone.

 _I just wanted things to be fair._ Sarah could already imagine the ridicule she would be faced with from the Goblin King if she were to say such a thing out loud. _Yes, the world wasn’t fair but that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t attempt to tip the balance._

In any case, her efforts were in vain. Adam was unworthy of her help.

If Adam had rejected the aid of Sarah the Champion, then he could very well face the wrath of Sarah the Goblin Queen.

“Adam.” She infused her voice with enough sweetness to attract the bees themselves. He turned towards her, almost grateful to be in the presence of at least one person who wasn’t imagining what his head would look like on a pike. “What is it that you wish for, that you dream of?” Sarah did her best to channel all of the seductive poise that Jareth had thrown at her during her first Run. She very deliberately kept her eyes on Adam and away from the Goblin King watching her little performance.

Adam blinked at her, momentarily stunned. “I uh...you know...” He raked his hair back from his face, now slightly less knotty; his blue eyes regarded her heatedly for a moment. “Everything’s so complicated back in the real world, down here there’s magic and riches beyond anyone’s wildest dreams.” He laughed slightly hysterically; as Sarah nodded encouragingly for him to continue, “I just want to set down new roots, have a fresh start without Marguerite and the baby.” His eyes grew foggy and his voice became thick with avarice, “To live a life where I want for nothing....and...ah...I know...immortality!” He announced excitedly. “I am giving up my only child, that’s got to be worth a lot.”

“More than you know.” Jareth practically snarled at him. Sarah watched warily as the circle of trees began to shed their leaves, once vibrant with life now ashy grey with the taint of death. The Goblin King’s fingers twitched with the urge to summon a crystal and to teach the mortal his place. Being bound to fulfil his duty to the Labyrinth and secure the offered child were the only things stopping him from obliterating Adam where he stood.

Adam’s eyes rested on her heavily, “You could come with me, and get away from this deranged King who only wants us both to suffer.”

Sarah’s mind went blank. She shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was; it was hardly the first time a Runner had propositioned the Goblin Queen. Normally, it was bold, flirtatious men and women who batted their eyes at her husband in order to coerce him into being more agreeable to their demands. Jareth tended to run interference when the Runners had designs on claiming his wife as a prize.

“I’m married, Adam. I intend to return home to my family.” She kept her voice sympathetic and devoid of any inkling that he repulsed her. Even though she has been trying to ignore the Goblin King she hadn’t missed the way his body stiffened in her peripheral vision at the reminder of the husband waiting for her back home.

_Is it really ‘back’ home if we need to move ‘forwards’ to return?_

Adam dared to place his grubby hand on her arm as he smiled at her coaxingly, “I can wish for anything Sarah. Don’t you think that _you_ could benefit from that too?”

“Remove your hand from her.” The Goblin King’s teeth were barred menacingly in a snarl of rage. Adam seemed alarmed by the sharp, canine-like quality of them, his hand twitched for a second before gripping her arm more firmly much to her dismay. Adam missed the way Jareth’s dexterous fingers moved in a looping motion, he _didn’t_ miss the flash of white-hot pain radiating from his hand as Jareth crushed a crystal in his palm. He pulled his hand away sharply and glowered at the Goblin King.

“You’re seriously messed up in the head!” The Runner barked at the irate King. Sarah flexed her arm, trying to regain feeling in it from where Adam had gripped her. She cast a look at Jareth, his fury simmered beneath the surface, waiting to reach out and tear Adam limb from limb. “Help me, Sarah,” Adam beseeched, “Help me make a fresh start of things.”

Golden explosions of fireworks danced behind her eyelids. Sarah took a deep breath and focused on her connection to the Labyrinth as it clamoured for the child it was being offered. She was willing to help claim the child but not at the expense of the repulsive little man getting everything he could ever dream of.

Part of her was tempted to ask Jareth to move time forward again so Adam had nothing to negotiate with, losing the child before he could bargain. Alas, as soon as he made it known he wished to forfeit the child nothing could be done to interfere with the deal.

_“I just want to set down new roots.”_

Sarah fought to keep a truly horrible grin off of her face.

“Just so things are clear, the terms of your deal are as follows. “ Sarah clasped Adam’s grubby hand in her own, hoping that since she instigated the contact that Jareth would forgo punishing him. “You want a new life where you can set down new roots, where you want for nothing, with no responsibilities or obligations.” She continued in a mellifluous voice, “One where you live forever...and you want me to help you get it.”

She felt Adam’s grip tighten as he stared at her with longing in his watery eyes. Sarah really hoped her plan would work; she glanced over at Jareth who was watching them with blatant confusion.

“Sarah, what are you doing?” The Goblin King swept his starry cloak back and power began to radiate from his presence, dangerously hot and consuming. Sarah wasn’t sure whether or not he would be annoyed at her for stealing his Runner; nevertheless, she hoped he’d appreciate what she had in store for him.

“Yes.” Adam responded breathily, “That’s what I want.”

Sarah smirked, “Then say your right words, say ‘I wish’” She demanded. “It’s the only way you can renegotiate the deal you made with the Labyrinth.

“Is that all it takes?” Jareth sneered, “To be offered anything you wish for at the hands of this fool and you would leave your family behind. Sarah, I-” Jareth tried again.

“Enough!” She snapped, she was too close now to have him interfere due to petty jealousy.

“I wish,” Adam started; his eyes flickered between a quietly confident Sarah and a puzzled Goblin King glowering at him. “I wish that I would receive everything you just said to me.” His expression softened as he turned hopeful eyes to Sarah.

“And in return?” She prompted, so close now, she could practically taste victory. The Labyrinth was scalding the insides of her head in its enthusiasm to officially keep the child.

Adam hesitated for a moment. He fiddled with the one remaining shirt cuff he possessed with one hand while keeping a tight hold of Sarah, he locked eyes with her. “In return, I will give up Abbigail.”

Sarah closed her eyes and felt the connection snap in place as Abbigail’s ties to the Labyrinth solidified; Labyrinth purred in contentment as another life was woven into the fabric of its existence. The Labyrinth’s joy was almost euphoric as a fresh burst of power rushed through her making her almost dizzy.

She grinned at Adam. It wasn’t one of the nice, friendly little smiles she had been lulling him into a false sense of security with, _no, this hid none of the malicious deceit lurking at the back of her mind._

“I accept.” The Goblin Queen decreed.

~*o0o*~

_Rule Six: Do not recklessly flaunt powers that you can’t conceivably possess._

Adam let his hand fall away; he shook his head in perplexion and began to shiver as an unnatural chill raced up his spine. He drew his limbs close to his body in an effort to stay warm.

“What do you mean, you accept?” Jareth asked softly, with a dangerous lilt to his voice. “You’ve accepted his little proposal to run away?” The vicious jealousy behind his eyes was so dark it made Sarah pause as she was reminded of how very inhuman the Goblin King was. The sharp dark lines framing his eyes intensified the cruelty lurking there.

Sarah’s heart thudded loudly as she was battered by discontent flooding in from her connection to the Labyrinth on Jareth’s behalf. She needed to get a grip on herself; _she could handle the Goblin King, even this younger, less predictable version._

“Clearly she can tell what the better option is.” Adam jeered, regaining his bravado. “So, Goblin King, Goblin King are you going to do as I wish?”

Sarah laughed, shocking the two men out of their glaring contest. “Oh no, I’m afraid that will be my privilege.”

Sarah raised her arm out in front of her to point at Adam; tucking her hand into a fist she raised it skyward. Sarah called to the Labyrinth in her mind, requesting the assistance necessary to fulfil the _small_ pact she had made with Adam.

Her arm began to burn as she felt the Labyrinth’s power trickle upwards, energy from the grass beneath her boots coursed through her. She made a twisting motion with her arm and the fountain grew silent, ceasing its lazy pump of nectar; the minutest of sounds from the surrounding wildlife also fell silent and the rain ceased. Birds failed to sing, crickets halted their chirps and the Sighted-Lichen refrained from gossiping.

Adam watched this display of power with great hesitancy, he moved back to increase the distance between him and Sarah. As he took a step back he stumbled as he ended up tripping on the roots growing out of the ground beneath him.

Adam tried to step over them in his retreat but sadly failed as the eager roots rose higher and wrapped around his trembling legs.

“Sarah, help me!” He shrieked in horror as the roots grew stronger and prevented him from fleeing.

The power flooding through her felt incredible, it spiralled through her limbs and sank into her mind greedily as it bent to her will with joy. The Labyrinth wordlessly promised her ceaseless devotion, for she was the one to tear its beating heart from the unworthy grasp of the False Queen.

Ignoring Adam’s cries for help she glanced over at Jareth, the almighty King stared at her enthralled.

“What are you doing, Precious?” His voice was barely above a whisper, the surprise painted across his face melted away into a covetous gleam as he watched her with unabashed hunger, perfectly content to see her continue her assault on the Runner.

Regretfully, she tore her gaze away from Jareth’s far from angelic, desire-tinged regard. Sarah smiled at Adam, “I am helping you.” Her words were a parody of kindness.

Desperately, Adam tried to reach down to pick up his chipped sword in the vain hope of using it to free himself. Unfortunately for him, the unyielding roots had twined higher than his legs and up to his torso, preventing him from bending down to retrieve it.

His eyes widened in crippling panic as he continued to contort his body in the vain hope of securing freedom. “You’re the one doing this to me?”

Sarah carefully circled the construction before her, half-tree, half-man; she deftly avoided his greedy grasping hands as he struggled to latch on to her. “Well yes,” She paused and tilted her head as though she were confused, “This is after all, exactly what you asked for.”

This time it was Jareth that laughed as he stepped forward to inspect her handiwork, he sauntered over regally with all the confidence and arrogance that had been quashed under the assumption that Sarah intended to choose the despicable coward before her.

“What’s said is said.” The Goblin King intoned with an ominous smile, too sharp and wicked to convey any warmth. “And my, what things you have said, that you have demanded.” His eyes lingered on Sarah, “I very much hope you will be happy with your new roots, Adam Laker.”

Adam froze momentarily, “No, no, no.” He protested and cringed as the roots wound higher and higher, binding his arms to his sides. “This isn’t what I wanted. This wasn’t part of the deal!” He spat, “You cheated me.”

Sarah frowned at him, affronted that her frankly shady integrity had been called into question. “No, I didn’t. What responsibilities do you have as a tree?” She retorted, “No child or ex-wife to care for, no job and no worries. In fact, you can have this forever.”

“No!” He yelled again with his fear-restricted vocabulary as the roots wrapped themselves loosely around his neck. “You promised that I would want for nothing.”

“Well,” Jareth drawled, “There is very little a tree desires other than healthy soil and the rain and the sunlight from above.”

“You’re just as twisted as he is!” Adam cried out in terror as his wooden exterior thickened and branches protruded from his back. “You’re both monsters.”

A strange feeling of coldness settled upon Sarah uneasily as she pondered his words. His punishment was indeed a cruel one, to be trapped forever in the form of a tree. There were Runners before Adam that had done much worse than trade their children for their dreams.

She never would have considered doing this to anyone before she became something other than human.

There is much that she had gained in becoming one of the Fae, maybe there were one or two things she had lost along the way.

_It doesn’t matter what I have lost...not after everything..._

_If I could choose again to let him sleep and allow Lyreia to rise...no...it isn’t worth thinking about..._

Adam had called them monsters; he had cringed in fear of the Goblin King and had no reason to believe that he would care for Abbigail in his absence. Even if he hadn’t actively harmed Abbigail it was clear that he was willing to place her in a potentially dangerous situation for his own gain.

He had been more concerned about the consequences of abandoning his daughter than the loss of her itself.

_No, he deserves his fate._

Sarah’s clenched fist tightened as she continued to encourage the Labyrinth to latch on to the Runner, to transform him into something eternal and theirs.

"I take it back.” He protested, his words sounded choked as if it took great effort to force them out past his dry throat. “I’ll do my best to finish the Labyrinth; I’ll look after my daughter.” Adam’s eyes bulged and he began to wheeze as wooden tendrils spread up his cheeks and toyed with the corners of his downturned lips.

Sarah shook her head sadly, “I’m afraid I don’t believe you.”

With one last petrified screech, Adam Laker was fully engulfed by the roots that Sarah had summoned. Branches continued to grow out from where his head had been and became embellished with long narrow leaves, vibrant and verdant. The victory against Adam was crowned by soft plump fruits of a resplendent rosy-gold complexion. Sarah could almost feel the soft, furred skins and the tempting weight of them in the palms of her hands.

Despite having a comically thick and twisted tree trunk to accommodate the torso of a former human, there was no doubt what kind of tree this was, heralded by the fruit it bore.

 _Typical,_ Sarah mentally grumbled, hoping the Labyrinth could feel her exasperation.

A deep feeling of satisfaction radiated through her mind as the Labyrinth lavished her with gratitude for the gift of a new life within its domain, and it promised to care for it most diligently.

Sarah inhaled deep calming breaths to steady her racing heart, less she became lost in the Labyrinth’s euphoria. It pierced each part of her; it was woven through her bones more steadfast than the roots that had taken a hold of Adam. The Labyrinth flourished inside of her as it did Jareth; the only release from it would be in death.

The Goblin King’s gaze rested heavily upon her; his expression was inscrutable as he just watched her quietly for a long moment next to the tree of her own making.

“You had the Labyrinth turn a man into a tree.” He spoke at last, his tone thoughtful as though questioning that which lay before his eyes.

“He wasn’t a very nice man.” She answered indirectly. It was answer enough for both of them. She turned her back on him to look upon the tree, wondering if somehow Adam was happy this way with the small measure of peace she had provided.

He released a low hum, “I suppose he wasn’t.” His voice was much too close, his lips a breath away from her ear as he stood behind her.

Now that Sarah had released the surge of power she had called to aid herself, the penetrating silence as the Underground watched over her actions had dissolved. The Fountain proceeded to bubble merrily and the flowers whispered to one another about The-Lady-Who-Tricked-The-Runner-Into-Wishing-to-be-a-Peach-Tree.

No one, mortal or immortal should have that kind of power over the Labyrinth, to make one who was nothing into part of a whole that was greater than could be conceived. _Not unless you were its King..._

She reached out to pluck one of the low-hanging fruits from the new tree. When she turned she found Jareth almost pressed up against her with a casual intimacy he had not yet earned. Sarah narrowed her eyes at him and stepped back, letting out a startled huff as her back hit the tree trunk behind.

His eyes danced with mischief as he took in her vulnerable position, yet now he was aware of how the air of innocent vulnerability she wore was a facade that hid an ancient and potent connection.

“My Labyrinth is fond of you.” He commented, intrigued.

“As fond as anyone can be of anything. Or anything of anyone.” She cursed the breathiness of her voice in reaction to him drawing closer still. The solid wood at her back compelled her to reach out and press against a far more comfortable, _warmer_ surface. “Is it as fond of you?” Sarah challenged.

_It won’t be._

He smirked at the fire within her, even now, even after her impressive display. “It brought you to me, so I would say so.” He rested one hand against the tree, partially caging her in with his body. “What about you, are you fond of me?”

Sarah dug her nails into the palm of her left hand, hidden under the long cuffs of her coat, which was now a similar hue as her blazing cheeks. “I am fond of _my husband_.” She reminded him, wary of where he was taking this.

This time she had technically answered him in the affirmative.

She smirked at the flash of annoyance that crossed his face. “Ah yes, your wonderful husband, who you are so eager to get back to, that you _play_ in my Labyrinth with.” His breath fanned across her face, warm and inviting. “Is he aware of how closely tied you are to my realm?” His musical voice teased, “How the Labyrinth answers to your call as it does to its King. We must be rather _close_ in the future for it to do so.”

Sarah could hear the underlying bitterness behind his last statement, how near but how so horribly far away he was from the truth, it was almost laughable. The peach in her right hand grew slick as she punctured the flesh with her nails.

“What do you wish to know of my husband?” _You, you, you!_ A blissed-out part of her mind retorted joyfully. Her _almost-husband_ , _her_ Jareth, any Jareth would always be her Jareth. “My beloved, my continued reason to exist, my sworn adversary.”

He gave no reaction to the latter peculiar term of endearment, _apparently, such a regard for your loved one was commonplace among the Fae._

No, the tempest stirring beneath the surface, the smoke foretelling the flame was the result of the adoration in her voice as she spoke of the love she had for her husband, for Jareth.

It was cruel to taunt him so with words he knew not were ascribed to himself.

Jareth stared at her with abject longing, her prevarication had been drawn out beyond reason so Sarah did what _he_ had done before her and offered him the bruised and mangled peach that had been held so tightly in her grasp. Perhaps there was a metaphor in there too but her mind was too unfocused to unravel it. Her body burned and Sarah yearned to touch him.

The hand he wasn’t using to crowd her against the tree with reached out for the battered fruit. He held it in his gloved hand, the matte leather shone with its juices. He pursed his lips as he stared at the peach. “Is that what you would offer me, false hopes?” He bowed his head to nuzzle at her throat, his lips tantalisingly close. “Mirage like dreams?”

Jareth allowed the peach she had given him to carelessly drop from his hand. It hit the ground with a dull wet thud but it might as well have been a gunshot.

His hand shifted from where it rested against the tree, it now pressed lightly against her shoulder, pinning her in place. His other hand picked up her sticky peach stained one and he pulled it forward so her fingers danced in front of his smirking mouth. “If I am to be deemed only worthy of the title of lover, in the shadows cast by your husband’s ignorance then I’d rather taste the real thing.”

Sarah’s eyes widened as he brought her fingers to his lips, his tongue shot out eagerly to taste every drop of the liquid that coated her hand. His teeth raked over her knuckles as he sucked on each digit gently. Sarah allowed her hand to slacken in his loose grip, still pinned against the tree. She was sure he could feel her pulse hammering away in her wrist. When his mouth had finished worshipping her hand his lips traced up to plant soft butterfly kisses on her arm, tugging on the sleeve of her coat to give him access to her bare flesh. The tailoring of her outfit gave him little room to pull at it without tearing, reaching only the crook of her elbow, each kiss left a trail of fire in its wake.

He gave up on his endeavour and removed his mouth from the tender flesh of her arm. Despite how soft his kisses had been Sarah was sure that they would leave bruises, a reminder engraved on her body.

Jareth sighed softly and released her shoulder from the tree and the arm he had been clutching. His eyes burned intensely, his pupils blown wide with want.

Her arms were free, part of her noted absently. Yet, she made no effort to push him away.

He gave her plenty of time to say something, anything, but anything Sarah had to say died on her tongue as Jareth’s mouth crashed into hers, where she had wanted it all along. His lips pressed against hers as he pushed the rest of his body closer, his hands came up to wrap around her waist to keep her near, to hold her where she belonged against the heart beating in his chest.

Jareth kissed much like he did anything else, persuasive and oh so selfishly generous as he took and took each sweet gasp she issued as he encouraged her to kiss back, to take from him his aching lust and millennia of loneliness. For some reason the desire to get away from him was simply not there, _surprise, surprise,_ it had taken a hike along with her common sense.

Sarah found her hands wound in soft strands of golden hair of their own volition, desperate to prolong this moment while she couldn’t remember why it was a bad idea.

She had always been weak where Jareth was concerned; it was so very hard to deny the one who wore her husband’s face when he needed her with such urgency.

His mouth slipped from hers suck at a sensitive spot on her throat, leaving an imprint of himself behind as he continued to attack her with his talented mouth.

“Goblin King...” She gasped out, her mouth no longer occupied by his own.

He hummed in acknowledgement and traced his mouth lower, pulling on the embroidered golden lapels of her coat to gain better access.

“We shouldn’t...” Sarah managed to get out, at the same time she tightened her grip on him, her body rebelling against her own words.

Jareth yanked on her jacket, pulling it open so his hands could snake up her blouse and press against her flushed skin. He ran his gloved hands in careful soothing motions against her back, the one he had used to take the peach left a sticky residue against her skin but she couldn’t find the wherewithal to care.

Jareth managed to tear his mouth away from her skin for a moment; he regarded her with fond amusement. “Then, tell me to stop and I shall.” His mouth was inches from her own, breathing in the air she exhaled in sharp rapid breaths. There were a thousand and one reasons why this was a terrible idea. What would _her_ Jareth think of all this? Would the future be forever changed?

There was no way of knowing what the consequences would be, but if there were consequences, then generally you should take the time to contemplate them rather than evicting them from your mind in favour of arching into the touch of the hot Goblin King making out with you.

He quirked an eyebrow at her silence and very deliberately undid the top button of her blouse. Her hands untangled from his hair to grasp at his narrow hips, she wondered whether she would leave bruises too.

“Are you concerned I’ll ruin you for your husband?” He mocked. She snatched at the long strands of his hair to drag his mouth down for her to violently kiss him in return, to cease his splenetic tirade. Receptive to her advances, he opened his mouth to her questing tongue and battled back just as harshly, forever her opponent in love and war.

He tore his mouth away again, pleased with Sarah’s dazed expression. She scowled at him before giving him what protest she could manage. “No one is better than my husband.” Her voice became wistful as she thought of her family back home, waiting for her to return. “He can do anything.”

“How romantic,” Jareth replied drily. His hands clenched at her defence of her husband as though he were practising hand strengthening exercises.

 _All the better to strangle him with my dear,_ the loopy part of her that was still besotted with fairytales breathed.

He pulled open her blouse completely and ran his finger along the lacy edge of her bra. “That’s one word for it.” She caught his hand and pressed it more firmly against her breast, moaning as he rubbed his palm against her aching nipple.

He tilted his head questioningly. “Oh, and what word would you use?” His other hand dipped lower, toying with the edge of her trousers, curling his fingers beneath the waistband and making her breath catch at the promise of what would come next.

“Problematic.”

“I wouldn’t worry.” His smile was anything but reassuring. There she stood, her jacket hanging off her arms and her blouse torn open, probably missing a button or two, while he stood in all his immaculate finery of black leather and a silver drenched cloak, still wearing those damnable gloves. “Should you return home, I would induce a craving within you so strong that whether or not you have been seeking out the arms of my future self, you surely will be after this.”

_What bizarre image of the future had he concocted where he thought they were having an illicit love affair behind her husband’s back?_

_Technically this is an illicit love affair behind our hus-_

“What do you mean, ‘should I return hom-?’” Her demand was cut off as Jareth pushed his knee between her legs to separate them. He pressed every inch of his body close to her own and she couldn’t help but rub against the friction he provided. She felt so hot under his touch as he manhandled her back against the tree and continued to grind his burgeoning need against her. He was far more satisfied when her words shifted to a broken moan.

“For someone so desperate to return home, you’re being unusually compliant.” He taunted. He unzipped her trousers and pulled them down her shaking legs, the teasing pass of the fabric made her sensitive skin shiver as his fingers drew wavy lines on her inner thighs. The fabric was only pulled low enough to hang around her ankles, caught on the long boots she wore now caked in mud from the garden. This, of course, made it very difficult to move without tripping.

“For someone who brags of their prowess, you do an awful lot of talking and not much else.” Sarah snapped back with as much dignity as she could muster with Jareth’s limbs entwined possessively with her own.

Jareth laughed lightly, keeping one arm around her waist to hold her close he ground his hand against her aching core, rocking it back and forth in slow teasing passes. “Perhaps you can think of a more worthy pursuit for my talented tongue, Love.”

She shivered at the lust dripping from his words and pushed back mindlessly against his hand. His breath caught at depths of desire in her eyes as she clamped Jareth’s hand between her thighs, hissing in pleasure at the rougher contact.

“My beautiful Sarah, what do you wish of me?” He crooned, obligingly pressing his hand more firmly between her legs, delighting at the wetness seeping through her thin underwear. Finally tugging his hand free of her, he noticed her dismay was quelled as he viciously pulled the gloves from his hands. Sarah’s gaze remained locked on his long pale fingers, tipped with glossy black nails.

Jareth brought his mouth back to her collarbone, sucking and kissing his way up as he felt her tremble in his arms. He was no saint, touching Sarah proved to be just as arousing for him as he ground his length against her, the fabric of his leggings did little to conceal how much he wanted her.

_What did she want? Why was she letting him do this?_

_There’s no letting about it, this is what would be termed ‘enthusiastic participation.’_

Sarah had told herself she couldn’t deny Jareth despite the fact that she had spent the better part of her life doing so for her own amusement. _No, it was the conquest, **the chase** that she really wanted._ That which led her to run and hide in their Labyrinth so her husband could stalk and capture her.

Sarah enjoyed the slightly threatening edge to Jareth’s declarations of devotion, the obsession that promised he would never ever let her go, would never be free of her. Because she could never be free of him; he had invaded her every thought and hazy summer daydream.

As she redirected him to her tingling lips and groaned into his hungry devouring mouth she knew why she was allowing Jareth this stolen moment. Everything about this, from his helpless infatuation, turned villainous torment when they first met, to the one she eventually fell in love with; what she had wanted was confirmation.

 _Confirmation_ that after a year of nursing a broken heart, before his quest to entice and entrap her back in his lands whilst keeping an icy facade of indifference, that he had wanted her beyond anything else and always would.

At last, his fingers dipped beneath her underwear, running lightly over her mound and finding her slick folds. He circled her clit in the lightest of motions and grinned innocently at her frustrated expression. “No, nothing you wish for?”

_Nothing...nothing...tra-la-la..._

Sarah’s breath hitched at his sultry tone and attempted to press back into his clever fingers that refused to give her what she needed. Each pass of his digits stoked the fire inside her and caused her walls to clench down on emptiness as he denied her. “I _wish_ you’d get on with it.” Truly, she wasn’t doing a convincing job of sounding as aloof as she wanted. “Right now.” She added, for the sake of all the things that had passed between them.

“Demanding little thing,” he chided.

 _If he started complaining about how exhausting living up to her expectations were then she was going to hit him._ He pressed one finger past her slippery folds; a teasing push and pull he decided to mirror with his sharp tongue as he dipped his head forward to taste her mouth once more.

He let her move against him, the thickness increasing as he added another finger, drowning in the evidence of her desire for him. He pulled back to suck her juices off his fingers as he had done before with the peach she had offered him. “I did say that I wished to taste you, did I not?”

“So you did.” Sarah pressed her core forward against his crotch, relishing in the flash of heat in his gaze and the stiffening of his body. She ran her hands along the smooth flowing silk of his ebony shirt and allowed the rippling material of his cloak to fall between her fingers before grasping it in a fist to pull him back to her. “And what’s said is said.” She challenged.

“So it is.” He agreed, eyes dancing with delight. Without hesitation, he pulled her underwear all the way down to tangle with her trousers. Heat suffused through Sarah’s body as Jareth got down on his knees for her; a familiar feeling of pride swelled through her as she watched the proud King bow his head before her to please her and put his mouth on her sensitive clit.

Each rasp of his tongue stoked the want surging through her rather than quelling it. He returned one of his talented fingers to her passage, searching and crooking his fingers until he reached the spot that made her cry out and her knees buckle; all the while he lapped at her flowing juices as though she were more delicious than the nectar of the fountain that stood to the side of them.

There was something utterly depraved about them doing this against Adam’s tree. Sarah wouldn’t put it past him to have decided that this is where he would slake his want for her, in an attempt to hold something else over Adam, a man who had dared to offer her dreams instead of him.

He removed his mouth from her and steadied her shaking form against the tree, exuding an air of smugness at her undone state. At the same time, he continued to twist two of his fingers in her passage, watching with rapt attention as she bit down on her lip fiercely to refrain from crying out. Each spasm of muscle in her throat and the widening of her eyes as they rolled back in pleasure were catalogued reverently as he looked upon her with what might have been tenderness.

That tenderness quickly transformed into self-indulgent satisfaction, “How wet you are for me.” He breathed, fascinated by a version of Sarah in front of him that he had only ever dreamed of. He quickened the motions of his hand and pressed against that spot inside her that made her exhalations harsher and her walls clench greedily around him.

“Tell me what you wish of me.” He demanded this time. He set his mouth back on her, plunged his tongue into her quivering core. His soft hair tickled her legs as he enthusiastically sucked and plundered her ardently. Sarah felt the heat creep into her stomach as she drew closer and closer to the edge.

Jareth decided to deny her once more, his smirking mouth glistened with her slick and she refused to whine at the loss of his mouth. “Hmm, not interested?” He teased her knowingly, reinserting a finger into her core and pumping it in and out lazily.

“Jar-Goblin K-King...” She choked out, grasping at his shoulder to steady herself, her hands gripped the large metal broach that held his cape in place.

He tutted and nipped the inside of her thigh in reprimand. Jareth soothed over the red area with his tongue in apology at her startled squeak of pain.

“I would say that we’re on sufficiently familiar ground.” He stretched his fingers inside her and twisted upwards, delighting in the way Sarah pushed back against his touch. “You know my name.” Jareth gave one swirl of his tongue against her clit before withdrawing. “Why, you fell into my lap and addressed me thusly.”

Sarah removed a hand from his shoulders to thread through his silken hair, without pause she shoved his teasing mouth back down where it belonged and kept her hand in his hair. Sarah’s grip tightened as Jareth indulged her silent demand and eased some of the longing coursing through her flushed form.

He groaned, a deep wounded sound as she tugged on his hair when the combined assault of his fingers and mouth upon her almost lead her to the tipping point. The enthusiastic sounds he was making caused another gush of wetness to surge from her and be lapped up by Jareth. But just as before, _like the bastard he was_ Jareth dragged her back from the bliss stretching just out of her reach.

Even though he was on his knees he knew full well of the power he was wielding over her.

“I-I’ve-“ She started, cut off by a harsh gasp as Jareth sucked at her swollen clit. “I’ve wished for...so many things...in my l-life.”

He pulled his head back to watch her with heavy-lidded eyes, “Yes.” He encouraged her, letting his unoccupied hand smooth over her legs, which remained resolutely solid under his onslaught of passion. “I can give you anything you want if you just _wish_ for it.”

She locked eyes with him, for a moment trying to suppress her reactions to the exploratory movements of his fingers inside of her. _How she wanted him_ ; he wasn’t making it especially easy for her... _nevertheless..._

“I wish to go home.” She forced out, her voice surprisingly even.

Sarah grinned deviously at Jareth’s enraged expression. The King’s ministrations ceased as he ripped his fingers from her and stood abruptly, pressing her back against the tree with an aura of menace. His body caged her in and set her heart racing with the fury and unsated lust he was exuding.

_Well, that makes two of us._

She arched her body against his; wanting just a little more friction to push her over the edge he had denied her. He responded with a sneer, pinning her hips back with an inhumanly strong hand to prevent her body from seeking his own.

“Anything I wish.” She repeated, mocking him with his own words.

His eyes narrowed before gracing her with a kind smile, like the one the fox gives the tortoise before devouring it. “Then _home_ you shall go, my cruel little Champion.” The hand not resting on her hip was brought forward. Sarah watched him with suspicion as he curled his fingers to produce a spherical crystal.

Without another word he reached for one of her struggling arms and pressed the crystal in her palm. It lit up instantly, ice-cold and branding into her as everything around them slipped away in a swirl of midnight and silver.

~*o0o*~

_Rule Seven: Ensure all contact with inhabitants of the past remains limited, verbally and physically._

The epic love story between The Goblin King and Goblin Queen was one worthy of a multitude of heroic ballads and heart-warming sonnets. Unfortunately, there was no consensus across the many Kingdoms of the Underground regarding what precisely had occurred between the ardent, duplicitous King and his defiant, recalcitrant Champion.

Sarah had amused herself by listening to the idle gossip in her castle, regaling her exasperated husband with such tall tales.

From deception and betrayals of the most devious kind to true-love-kisses and sleeping Kings; from insurgencies and nightmare-wraiths to amnesia and mawkish magic flowers that lead the way to one’s heart’s desire. Sarah had heard them all, and they all held a grain of truth.

In all of them, she was a badass.

In a select few she simpered and begged the dashing Goblin King to take her away and make her his bride.

She was less than pleased by the last one, especially since she was positive she knew who started that rumour, _the jerk_.

Whatever Sarah had or hadn’t faced, it all boiled down to one significant detail. One way or another, Sarah would always get what she wanted.

And right now, as she stared down the victorious looking Goblin King, sprawled lackadaisically on the throne in his castle in nothing but a tight pair of dove grey leggings and the pendant upon his bare chest, she was willing to place her desire to return home second, _just for the moment_.

“How clever.” Sarah scoffed, “Returning me to _your_ home.” Her sharp tone failed to belie her embarrassment at being shunted back to his throne room, _sans_ clothing. “I suppose you didn’t quite have the energy to transport what I was wearing with me.”

Jareth arched an eyebrow at her, his heated gaze settled on her heavy exposed breasts as her nipples pebbled in the cool air. His eyes continued to drink in the sight of her, smirking at the shiny trail of her arousal that had dripped onto her inner thigh. Seeing his perusal, the irate Queen pressed her legs together tightly, trying to ignore the unsettling burn inside her that Jareth had stoked but refused to quench.

“Well, you just can’t make up your mind.” Jareth shook his head sadly, “You wanted to Run my Labyrinth _again_ just to prove you still could.” He tapped his riding crop lightly against his leg as he regarded her thoughtfully, “You wanted to steal my Runner’s wishes and grant them yourself.” He grinned, “Although, I do applaud your artistic interpretation. Then, you were ever so demanding about what you wanted me to do to you against that poor tree.” He licked his lips lasciviously to remind her of the taste that still lingered on his tongue.

 _Home._ She reminded herself, _you want to go home._

_I will go home. As soon as I settle my unfinished business. He’s already promised to return me._

_Yeah, ‘finish’ being the operative word..._ the less restrained part of her whispered back.

Sarah placed her hands on her hips, letting him look at her however much he wished; she stepped forward, the flagstones frigid beneath her exposed feet. She was thankful that all of the muck and gunk slathering the ground from early was absent, along with the Goblins who had put it there.

“If you’re going to just manipulate the situation for your own ends we may as well finish what we started.” She returned, boldly, carrying herself up the few short steps that lead to the throne of a highly interested Goblin King.

“It is you who cannot uphold the truth,” Jareth retorted, archly, “We both know from the way you so desperately crushed your body to mine and clenched wantonly around me, that you desire far more from me than passage home.” His mouth twisted into a filthy grin, “Why don’t you finish what _you_ started, Precious Thing.”

Sarah eyed the evidence of his desire for her, still straining at the front of those ridiculously too tight leggings. By now she stood before his throne, her gaze meeting his lust-filled one as he tightened his grip on the crop he had been lazily swishing around.

She reached out to touch his pendant, running her fingers over the sharp points and then releasing it so it swung back onto his chest. Then, very deliberately she placed her hands upon his bare shoulders and climbed onto his lap without breaking eye contact.

Sarah smirked at the flash of shock on his face at her audaciousness, revelling in Jareth’s groan as he felt the weight of her press against his erection. She curled her fingers in his hair and pulled his face forward to meet hers.

_Consequences be damned, she’d already messed up enough by coming here, she might as well enjoy herself._

Some dark possessive part of her liked the idea of doing this to Jareth. She nipped at his mouth playfully and he responded by letting out a hiss and teasing her greedy mouth with his own bruising kisses. Jareth dropped his crop and let his hands grasp her breasts, massaging the tender flesh and squeezing her more roughly than he had before as he ground up against her willing body.

 _Yes_ , she enjoyed the thought of this, of travelling back through time and marking this Jareth as hers before he even knew that he was hers; her lovely _husband-to-be_. A small part of her fantasised about moving further through time, to a Jareth who hadn’t met her yet. _Would all Jareths be equally enthralled by her?_

Sarah pulled away from Jareth’s enticing mouth, “Is there something you _wish_ from me, Goblin King?” Her voice was too light and breathless to carry any of the seductive smoulder he had thrown at her back in Ayra’s Garden. Even still, it would seem Jareth appreciated her words as she punctuated them with a particularly forceful grind against his crotch.

Jareth’s hands slid downwards to steady her hips. Something uneasy and guilty gnawed at her as she watched genuine warmth flood across the King’s face. “An eternity would not be long enough for me to grant the wishes I have involving you.”

She couldn’t bear the way he was looking at her, so hopeful and lo-

_No, not that, this Jareth isn’t my husband; he desires me, yes, but he doesn’t feel that way._

At least she hoped his feelings weren’t as strong yet. Despite his promise to return her to her own time, the more time she spent with _this_ Jareth the more her doubts grew that he would be capable of keeping his word.

Falling in Love with Jareth had been an experience. It wasn’t like being hit by Cupid’s arrow so much as being annihilated by Cupid’s machine gun; ripping her walls to shreds and laying her vulnerability before him in sheer bloody desperation.

“Once.” She insisted, “This can happen once, then you’ll be returning me to my time.” It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than Jareth. It didn’t help that her throat burned warningly as if reminding her she was edging too close to untruthful territory.

He hummed in agreement next to her throat before embellishing her neck with another red mark; his teeth grazed her ear lobe as he whispered to her. “You will be unable to stop thinking about me if I return you.” He chuckled lightly and raked his nails gently across her back, “Your husband will think of me also when he sees how I have branded you with the evidence of our mutual desire.”

“You have no idea.” Sarah agreed, choosing to ignore his use of the word ‘if’ this time. She rocked back down against him in sharper snaps of her hips, trying to get friction against her clit and not thinking of the way she was staining Jareth’s clothing with her wetness.

“Lift up your hips a moment, Love.” He urged her. Obligingly, Sarah settled her hands back on his shoulders and pressed her weight back on to her knees either side of him so that he was able to pull his leggings down; revealing the angry throb of his member, for he had been denying himself as long as he had denied her.

Sarah pushed herself back down to rub against his swollen flesh, enjoying the heat and the slide of him against her slick folds. Warmth started to gather in her groin once more as he continued to rut his hardness against her, his eyes dark with avarice. She shivered as he gripped her hips and caused her to move against him more forcefully.

He halted her for a moment, reaching down to press his fingers into her to test her readiness. Sarah clenched against the intruding digits, silently beckoning him to replace them with what they both wanted. After watching her squirm on his lap, he finally removed his fingers and encouraged her to lift up once again; he took himself in hand and pressed the plush and dripping head of his erection against her entrance.

“Do you want this?” He demanded of her, his voice harsh with the effort it took to restrain himself from taking what he wanted.

Sarah narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes.” She responded through gritted teeth as she slammed herself down onto him at last, enjoying the way his eyes widened in surprise at her impatience to have him fill her.

Jareth slid into her clenching core that had been stretched and lavished by his attention for so long. Sarah took him in deep, gasping at the sudden fullness as she drew him in too quickly to adjust. Jareth’s hand came to rest on the small of her back, rubbing soothing circles against her as she spasmed around him.

Jareth let out a low wounded sound as she tightened her walls around him, trying to hold still for her sake. The devotion burning in his eyes was almost Sarah’s undoing as he looked at her as though he couldn’t quite believe she was really there.

Sarah drank in his possessive expression; she clenched around him hard feeling him twitch inside of her. She had done this hundreds of times before with Jareth and she would do it hundreds of times more. Yet, there was something different about doing this with _this_ Goblin King.

Jareth’s hands stopped their gentle caresses and clutched on to her hips tightly. He pressed his lips to hers with all of the force he wished to release upon her body, plunging his tongue inside and devouring her with intensity. Her husband had never before looked quite so frantic to mould his body to hers, to entwine his limbs and make himself a part of her.

If he thought it possible to fix his lips to hers forever, he would do so. To give her the breath from his lungs and watch as it filled her chest with life; to accept her exhalations just as faithfully, denying the possibility of losing any part of her.

_This was the Jareth that thought all of his dreams of being with her had shattered due to six small words._

Sarah readily reciprocated his frenzied kisses and began to shift in his lap, not quite lifting herself up, not yet. She curled her hands into the hair on the base of his neck and gasped all of her suppressed sounds of lust into his open eager mouth.

Jareth felt so hot inside of her, firm and unyielding as he sank in deeper.

 _Mine_...she thought deliriously, _he is mine, right here and now but I cannot be his yet..._

Jareth rocked his hips forward against her, encouraging her to ride him properly. He pulled his mouth away so he could appreciate the sight of Sarah lifting herself up on her knees and slamming herself back down on him.

Jareth caught Sarah’s chin in his hand and tilted her head down, “Joined, at last, my Sarah.” He watched his erection, slick with their combined want, disappear inside of her, buried achingly deep within her.

“Your body was designed to give succour to my own, just as I was made to satisfy you completely,” his husky tones, murmured into her ear along with teasing sucks to the side of her throat caused her to moan and quicken her movements as she continued to shove herself down onto his throbbing member.

In her almost mindless pursuit of pleasure, using Jareth’s willing body to bring her higher and higher, Sarah sought out just the right angle to bring her the bliss she craved. As she rocked against him with rapacity, he managed to hit a spot inside of her that made her almost collapse against him as it sent pleasure sharply shooting through her relentlessly.

Jareth lowered his head to take one of her aching nipples into his mouth, sucking on it with all the fervour and attention he had been administering to her neck. 

Sarah could feel herself tighten around him, she felt the warning flush of heat pooling below. And then she did something incredibly stupid. She forced herself down upon him violently, relishing in Jareth’s sounds of pleasure as she became flush with his lap once more. Sarah bent forward so her lips brushed the shell of Jareth’s ear, “You’re pretty confident considering I’m the one doing all the work.”

Jareth’s ministrations to her breasts ceased immediately. His head snapped up as he regarded her with incredulity, his mismatched eyes narrowed at her impudence. With a sigh Jareth pushed himself up from his throne, at Sarah’s squeak of alarm at finding herself being pushed backwards, his arms reached out to curve around her lower back.

Her knees ached from where they had been pressed against the solid and uncomfortable surface of Jareth’s throne and she was none too pleased about being tipped back without warning. His erection had slipped out of her and her walls clenched at the sudden pervading sense of emptiness.

When they were both standing, albeit shakily on her part, Jareth pressed his hips forward into hers to grind his hardness against her dripping entrance; smirking as she sucked in a deep breath. With a casual wave of his hands, the rest of his clothing dissolved into nothing.

He returned his hand to her waist, keeping his dark frustrated gaze upon her he turned them around and walked her backwards until she hit the solid structure of a pillar behind her.

“G-Goblin King.” She responded, alarmed by the force of which he was manhandling her. It had definitely been a poor idea to imply that he wasn’t being a very good lover.

Another part of her was coiled in anticipation, her clit throbbed from lack of attention and she was eager to see what exactly she’d managed to goad him into now. _She never could make things easy on poor Jareth._

Amongst the kidnappings, rescue missions and an overly invested sister-in-law that may or may not have a thing for her, Sarah felt it was her right to pay him back in whatever petty way that was feasible.

Jareth trapped her against the wall, the evidence of his desire for her was prominent against her hip as he left a smear of precome upon her skin. He placed one hand against her chest to feel the insistent thump of her frantic heart, it rested there for a moment as he regarded her with amusement.

“If you wanted something, Precious, you need only ask.” He whispered hotly in her ear. Her whole body thrummed like a live wire, burning up on the inside in her longing for him. Without warning he sheathed himself back inside her, sighing in pleasure as the heat of her body welcomed him once more.

Sarah crumpled against him as lust surged through her but he thwarted her attempts to shove her hips against him in pursuit of her release. It was agonising to be so full, so close to gaining what she wanted and being denied over and over again. Jareth grasped her hands, his fingers like manacles as he pushed them up against the broad wall of the pillar.

He changed the angle of his thrusts so his erection reached deeper within her, massaged desperately by her quivering walls. Jareth dragged his teeth down the side of her neck, sucking a perfect purple mark onto the sensitive spot beneath the left side of her jaw.

The movement of his hips was a much more aggressive pace than the one she had set upon his lap, it was a rhythm created from frustration as he attempted to fuse them together as one.

Sarah would have blushed at the lewd wet sounds as he slid into her soaked core but she was far too gone on pleasure and the need to reach the end she so vehemently sought.

“Ja-Goblin K-King.” Sarah gasped once more, clenching down on the throb of his manhood within her.

“Almost.” Jareth nipped at her neck, slowing down the brutal thrust of his hips as he eased his pace to leisurely rock within her, “But that’s not quite the right thing to say.” His own voice was heavy with ardour and came out almost as breathless as her own; the determination glinting in his eyes told her he refused to fall over the edge with her until she gave him what he desired.

Sarah groaned at the gentle brush of him within her core as he barely gave her enough to keep her at the point of euphoria.

She could call him by his name. _It would be easy_ , just two little syllables that she’d said often enough. But calling him ‘Jareth’ would make it too easy to merge the concept of her husband, everything that they were and had built together with the Fae she was currently pressing against with urgency.

_It was absurd to consider it a betrayal considering her actions were far worse than anything that could pass her lips._

Even still, Jareth was the name of her husband, her beloved. _This_ was the Goblin King, her nemesis who still harboured a great deal of resentment towards her and was no doubt plotting a plethora of devious things that could get her into a whole world of trouble.

“Goblin King...Goblin King...” Sarah managed to babble, arching against him. She sought out his mouth to occupy herself in the hope it would cease his insistence on her using his name.

Jareth humoured her for a long moment, meeting her kisses with equal enthusiasm before pulling away from her swollen lips. “ _Sarah, Sarah_.” He jeered in return, deciding to shove himself inside her with a harsher thrust than those he had been taunting her with.

Jareth smiled in satisfaction at the way her mouth opened silently in shock and her body tightened against him, relishing in the surge of her wetness. After seating himself within her, pressing the head of his erection up against a spot that felt maddening with the renewal of bliss it caused her, he decided to cease the movement of his questing hips.

He smirked at her knowingly as she tried to push herself forwards against him, to at least grind her tender clit against his groin. Jareth squeezed her wrists, still held iron-clad within his grasp, reminding her of how powerless she was to try to come without his assistance.

“How long can you last like this,” Jareth tilted his head questioningly, as though he were making idle conversation. He bent his neck to take one of her aching nipples into her mouth, lathing over the sore red peak and blowing on it gently.

Sarah glared at Jareth and squeezed her walls around him punishingly, urging him to continue his ministrations. “How long can you?” She grinned as Jareth groaned and rocked against her infinitesimally.

She saw laughter in Jareth’s eyes as he transferred the grip on her wrists to one hand, casually exuding the strength hidden within his lithe form as his other hand reached down to where they were joined, rubbing his finger in small circles around her slick clit. It felt so much more tender when she was filled up like this, full of Jareth. Sarah refused to believe the sound coming out of her mouth resembled a whine in any way whatsoever.

“I’ll happily give you what you want, as soon as you give me what I want.” Jareth sounded far too put together and agreeable, she didn’t like her chances of outlasting him, not when he had been touching her and feeding the craving within her ever since he pinned her to that blasted tree.

Sarah bit down on her lip viciously to prevent herself from crying out as he pressed his hips forward again, in the smallest of motions, making sure he was buried inside impossibly deep. Feeling the throb of him within her and knowing how much he desired her was almost too much to bear.

Jareth continued to circle her clit, keeping his touch light and taking his hand away whenever she seemed too close to coming, he felt the tell-tale clench of her around him and could taste the sweet desperation on her lips as she moaned against him.

Sarah tried to push against the grip of his hand entrapping her but he simply grinned at her futile attempt to break free. With a huff of annoyance, she pressed herself back against the pillar, shutting her eyes in the vain hope it would somehow make things easier.

_It did not._

The cheating bastard leaned his head forward so his mouth rested next to her ear. Suddenly, he pulled out almost all the way before shoving himself back down to the hilt. While she was recoiling from shocked pleasure he graced her with the words that would be her undoing.

“I love you, Sarah.” His utterance sent heat coursing through her, she clamped down on him in surprise, thrown by the double assault of physical pleasure and his emotional vulnerability.

“J-Jareth..” She practically wailed, unthinkingly, too overwhelmed by the presence of her husband’s whispered words of devotion and the pleasure of his body on hers, within hers. _No, not husband!_ A part of her mind shrieked back, but she couldn’t reclaim the name he had managed to coax out of her.

“Yes.” He hissed back in his glee. Finally, finally giving her what she needed, he rocked his hips against her with urgency, sliding into her wet core with ease as she spasmed around him, clenching down hard on where they were joined.

“My Sarah,” Jareth sighed, he released her arms at last and reclaimed her mouth, delighting in the way she continued to gasp his name, the damn preventing her from doing so before now shattered. He rubbed at her clit aggressively, pulling his mouth away from hers to stare deep into her unfocused blissed-out eyes, almost black with lust instead of the vibrant verdant he was familiar with. “Come for me.” He ordered, with all the arrogance of knowing that this was one order she was helpless to do nothing but obey.

Sarah clenched down on him, her walls squeezed the hardness of his erection within her as she gave in to the ecstasy he had granted her. “Jareth...” She repeated one last time, breathless as his desire-filled eyes remained attentively on her state of rapture. She gasped as he buried himself within her as far as he could go; a surge of scalding heat blossomed inside of her as Jareth filled her with his essence, shaking and clutching her to him as he reached completion.

It was incredibly easy to just submerge herself in this perfect moment of contentedness and serenity. Sarah remained entangled in Jareth’s arms as he, in turn, uttered her name worshipfully.

~*o0o*~

_Rule Eight: Do not claim future titles and responsibilities you don’t currently possess._

They remained still for a long moment until Jareth withdrew from her and placed an oddly chaste kiss on her forehead. The smile on his face was strangely gentle, lacking any of the fierce triumph she assumed he would be radiating. Without the pressing demand to sate herself she was able to take a step back and consider the situation she managed to get herself into.

_Well crap._

That about summed things up nicely.

Since Jareth was no longer pressed against her, she began to feel cold as she leant back against the stone pillar while attempting to regain her senses. Jareth continued to watch conflicting emotions flicker across her face, his own visage showed the faint traces of apprehension as her silence stretched onwards.

Jareth’s declaration kept buzzing away in her mind like an angry swarm of bees or one of the cans of drugged Garden Faeries Hoggle had in his possession.

She really shouldn’t have done this to him, not when the future that waited for her to return was so far away for _this_ Jareth. The Goblin King was right, she could be cruel indeed.

“What you said...” Sarah began warily, seeing Jareth’s attention focus upon her intently, “You shouldn’t have...you know I have to return home.” She began to ramble nervously, feeling exposed she wrapped her arms around her chest, “It’s not really f-”

“Fair?” Jareth offered, raising a sardonic eyebrow at her hesitancy.

Sarah scowled at him, “I really hate when you do that. Just because you don’t believe in fairness doesn’t mean it isn’t worth practising.” They’d had this conversation too many times, at least she had with her husband.... _her husband_....guilt twisted within her causing a feeling of nausea to rise.

Sarah took a deep breath, preparing herself for Jareth’s inevitable anger. “Goblin King, I-”

“Jareth.” He corrected instantly, he appeared to be as wary as she was, his eyes gleaming with alertness. “I am already well aware of what you wish, Sarah.” All of the softness he had regarded with her had fallen away, she’d seen glaciers that appeared blisteringly hot in comparison to Jareth’s cool, impenetrable exterior.

Sarah pushed herself forward off of the pillar, giving her just enough room to pull her arms behind her back and conceal her actions from him. “Right now, I’d rather like my clothes back.” Out of view, she began to form a crystal in the palms of her hands.

Whilst Jareth was aware that she could turn people into trees and solve Labyrinths in under an hour, she was hoping that he had chalked it up to the Labyrinth possessing a general fondness for her and indulging her wishes. After all, the Labyrinth hadn’t liked Adam much either, pre-transformation.

The alternative was the Goblin King being aware that the nature of her abilities mirrored his own. Even though she didn’t have quite the same dramatic flair he did, not to mentioned manual dexterity, Sarah was just as capable of creating crystals as he was.

Sarah crushed the crystal in her hand feeling the dusty residue crumble away. And all at once the two of them were clothed once more in their previous attire; fortunately, her missing buttons had returned and her general state of stickiness was cleansed away.

Jareth’s eyes narrowed at the display, stepping backwards as he found himself dressed in a way that was considerably less dishevelled than he had been. His gaze rested upon her with deep suspicion as he scanned her newly clothed form.

“Does the Labyrinth respond to all of your wishes?” He asked with a dangerous edge to his voice. It reminded her of the intense disapproval he’d shown when he believed she was going to allow Adam to grant wishes for her.

Sarah shrugged, feigning a level of casualness she certainly didn’t possess, “I guess there have to be some benefits to beating the Labyrinth three times.”

She smirked at the widening of his eyes. Her self-satisfaction transferred into a wince when she moved her aching body away from the pillar, still keeping a reasonable distance away from Jareth, lest he decide to distract her as he’d already proven he was adept at.

Jareth considered her thoughtfully, “I can only recall two occasions where you Ran the Labyrinth, presumably your recent Run was your third.” At Sarah’s nod of agreement, he tilted his head to the side to stare at one of the many walls of the Labyrinth. She really hoped he wasn’t trying to garner more information about her via communication with the sentient maze.

Jareth created one crystal in his left hand, he rolled it around his palm and allowed it to flick across his fingertips before it suddenly duplicated itself into a second. He took the other crystal into his right hand and images began to form in the clear surfaces of them.

“Your brother,” He raised one, showing a startlingly young version of Toby. “And your freedom.” The second crystal depicted her third Run, conversing with an irate Adam about their mutual desire to reach the castle. Jareth watched as Sarah frowned at the illusions he presented, “What else was worth Running the Labyrinth for?” Blatant curiosity was evident upon his puzzled face as he tried to fathom what was of great importance to her.

Sarah chewed on the inside of her cheek as she considered what she should say.

The imprint of obsidian twisting shapes, lying in wait to snatch her up and eerie voices singing to her hauntingly, through hazy mists that were designed to choke the breath out of her came to mind.

“Someone I love was in danger.” She decided on. Not that she had been in love when she first embarked on her return trip to the Labyrinth; all of that just sort of happened along the way.

“Indeed.” Jareth questioned, “Was it your precious husband?” His mouth curled into a sneer as he mentioned the one she was forsaking his company for.

 _Round and round in circles they went._ The Goblin King giving some inkling of his feelings, Sarah selfishly snatching it up through wilful entitlement, then rebuking him in favour of what awaited her in the future.

Sarah turned away from him, immersed in her thoughts she walked away from the pillars surrounding the raised platform of Jareth’s throne. She didn’t need to turn around to know Jareth would follow her. _Clearly, she had more faith in her spouse than Orpheus had._

Sarah didn’t half pity her younger self and her eventual confrontation with the Goblin King.

Leaving _this_ Jareth behind with a new facet in their already difficult relationship that wasn’t shared by her oblivious past self was bound to cause complications.

It was then that she heard a voice, calling to her from far away, too far away. The sound of it was twisted and distorted through the distance it travelled to appeal to her. And yet she was able to make out a set of words she knew only too well.

_“I wish the Goblin Queen would take this child away, right now.”_

Sarah spun around in alarm. “Don’t I get a day off?” Jareth appeared to be thrown by her incongruous response to his vitriolic question. If falling through time unintentionally at the non-existent hands of a sentient Labyrinth, _(although, now she thought about it the Labyrinth did, in fact, have several helping hands)_ didn’t warrant having a day off from work then she wasn’t sure what criteria she had to meet.

_Perhaps she could go on strike, what would that even entail?_

_Refusing to steal babies? Come to think of it that didn’t sound so difficult._

As if hearing her traitorous thoughts the Labyrinth dramatically dumped a child into her arms. She scrambled to clutch the babe, trying not to drop him out of shock. Dazzlingly green eyes stared up at her with gut-wrenching familiarity.

“This is my baby,” Sarah whispered, her throat immediately drying up at all of the implications. She regarded the Goblin King before her with a nagging touch of fear. _How did he end up here...Did he...?_

_He couldn’t have wished our child away..._

“You can’t just keep this one because you like him.” Jareth chided. He looked as surprised as Sarah was to be the one promoting the ethical standpoint. “Hand him over; let’s see what poor sap is going to Run the Labyrinth now.” He held his arms out as though expecting her to just hand him her son, their son, _their-sort-of-their-son_.

He frowned at her reluctance to hand over the baby. Given her casual treatment of the last Runner’s Wished-Away-Daughter, her insistence on keeping this one seemed to disappoint him. Sarah’s arms shook and her fingers dug into the fluffy green blanket her son was wrapped in. She had the urge to hysterically laugh over the sudden turn of events.

“Sarah, you know how it’s done.” He tried coaxingly; he looked almost worried by her death-grip on the baby. “The child will be fine.”

Sarah shook her head desperately, shifting away from Jareth. Her son, on the other hand, recognising his father’s face he stretched his chubby little arms out to grasp at the stray strands of Jareth’s artfully dishevelled hair.

Jareth appeared oddly charmed by Avery. He dipped his head to allow her baby to tug at his hair, his crowning glory. _Of course, he would adore his own son._

“No, Jareth.” Sarah tried again. She grimaced at the flicker of interest in his eyes at her willing use of his name. “This is my son, Avery.”

He knew she had a child. That didn’t prevent the flash of shock from crossing his face. Confusion warred with pity on his face as he pulled away from the baby’s grasp. His eyes darted between Sarah and her child, cataloguing the similarities between them, focusing on their shared emerald eyes that had stalked his unforgotten dreams.

Sarah watched with apprehension as his pity twisted into something desperate, something that wanted to rage bitterly at the proof she held in her hands that she had loved someone and sired a child, someone that couldn’t be him.

As adoring a tone as Sarah adopted when speaking of her husband, she knew without a doubt that Jareth would shed no tears if her beloved were to befall a sudden accident whilst Running his Labyrinth.

“One would think you’d be more scrupulous in your choice of babysitters after that debacle with your brother.” His face was forced into a deliberate imitation of indifferent coldness. His eyes rested on the baby once more, no doubt his depraved mind was in the midst of conjuring some new unholy terror to confront the newest Runner with.

Sarah forcefully stepped away from Jareth so her back was to the copper-wrought door with engravings of disfigured visages leering out. She really didn’t want to have to run from Jareth with her son in tow.

“One would think.” She agreed bitterly. What on earth had her husband been thinking, clearly he _hadn’t_ been thinking at all. “I’m afraid the babysitter was my _husband’s_ choice.”

“And just who was given the honour of becoming your babysitter, _dear Sarah_.” He purred her name.

She could see it only too clearly now. Behind his cruel veneer and pontificating, there shone the burning embers of victory. J _areth couldn’t begrudge her desire to return home to her son, her husband was another matter entirely._ Now, holding both Sarah and her son in his covetous talons he seemed to think that her remaining in _his_ time was growing increasingly likely.

“You were!” She spat in fury.

Blankness descended on Jareth’s face as he pondered her statement with incredulity. He narrowed his eyes and stalked forward purposefully. This caused Sarah to now have her back pressed up against the door behind her, seeing as it was the kind you have to pull on ancient rusted handles to open, her position wasn’t ideal.

“Unlike yourself, Sarah, I would not wish-away a child.” Jareth sneered. “Why exactly would I even agree to watch over your...offspring?” He glanced back at Avery, his face softened at the sheer contentedness radiating off the child in juxtaposition with his mother’s ire.

Sarah bit her lip. It seemed inevitable; one way or another _this_ Jareth was going to find out about what the future had in store. He would learn that he would succeed in wooing her.

Perhaps the fabric of time would be shredded at the seams and reality would bleed away through the cracks at the weight of his ego weighing down upon it, or maybe he’d just be more insufferable than usual.

_She could hardly tell which of the two would be worse._

It was at that moment that Avery let out a sneeze. He jolted forward and shimmering lilac sparks swirled through the air as though he were in the centre of a nebula. Sarah couldn’t help but smile down at her child and his endearing lack of control over his magic. _Who knew that the tendency to cast glitter everywhere was an inheritable characteristic?_

“Clever Avery.” She cooed at her baby, rocking him in her arms. “One day you’ll be more powerful than your Dadda.” Her grin widened as Avery giggled at his mother’s excitement.

She turned to see Jareth indiscreetly gawping at them. “Your child is one of the Fae...a strong one at that.” He stated seriously, eyeing Avery with great interest. “I suppose I should have suspected that your partner would be one of my kind, considering your acquisition of age resistance.”

Sarah ignored his thinly veiled line of questioning into her marital affairs in favour of humming softly to her baby, _it was a lullaby that her own mother had favoured, back when she still had an interest in being a mother._

“May I?” He held his arms out once more.

She stared at him with deep suspicion, a look that managed to garner a faint trace of amusement from Jareth.

“If you have already asked me to babysit your child, I see no reason why my doing so now should cause you discomfort.” He reasoned.

“Are you forgetting the part where future-you just wished _ou_ -my son away?” Sarah demanded. Her heart thudded loudly at her almost slip of the tongue.

“I am bound to the Labyrinth’s rules, Sarah.” He spoke sadly, “If he is wished-away then he is within my purview.”

Her mind began to race in earnest. She forcefully shoved aside her fantasies involving dunking her husband into The-Bog-of-Eternal-Stench. Why would he wish Avery away to her? She had to think about this rationally.

 _Back up...._ wished-away to _her_...

Sarah’s lips curved into a triumphant grin. The Jareth of this time wasn’t yet familiar with the dangerous glint in his Wife-To-Be’s eyes; he did, however, have enough common sense to keep a feeling of unease in the periphery of his mind when interacting with her.

Her death-grip on Avery lessened and she planted a kiss on his curl obscured forehead. “He wasn’t wished-away to _you_.” Sarah declared smugly.

Jareth paused uncertainly, “Of course he was, a contract was made with the Labyrinth, as Monarch I must deal with the Wished-Away-Ones.”

Sarah shook her head, “And did you hear the _right words_?” Her voice took on a sing-song cadence as she watched his mounting uncertainty.“He was wished-away to me, that’s why he appeared in _my_ arms.”

Jareth sighed deeply, as though the conversation was incredibly taxing. “I am the Goblin King.” He spoke very deliberately. “Children are wished-away to _me_ not you.”

“Are you sure?” Sarah mocked his scathing drawl before switching her attention back to Avery. “Your Dadda’s going to regret his choices when I scalp him.” She chimed in a falsely cheerful voice as she bounced her son in her arms playfully. “Oh yes he is,” she continued. She smiled down at the cherubic face of her son.

Casually announcing she could hear the call of Wishers rendered her subterfuge relating to her abilities moot.

_Whoops._

Jareth gazed at her quizzically, “If, as you say, I am the one who will wish-away your son, why are you promising vengeance against your child’s father?”

Sarah shifted Avery in her arms nervously, “Ah, good question.” A good question she proceeded to ignore.

Her eyes darted around the room hoping that by some miracle inspiration would strike. Alas, she was aboard a sinking ship and she had already given too much away. Whatever redirection she could muster would simply be the equivalent of bailing water out of said figurative ship with a teacup.

Jareth tapped a gloved finger against his chin thoughtfully, still looking between Sarah and her baby. “Did you say you _heard_ the child being wished-away?” The terrifying light of dawning realisation filled his eyes, or maybe the Labyrinth felt like letting in a bit more sunlight for dramatic effect.

It was almost a relief when the entire throne room was plunged into darkness.

_Potential assassination attempts aside._

Sarah clutched Avery to her tightly, hoping that her baby wouldn’t decide that now was an opportune moment to cry out. Despite her state of panic, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection for the Goblin King, briskly switching from his stance of the interrogator to protector as he placed himself in front of her and the potential threat stalking them.

The wind began to howl loudly outside of the door, accompanied by the sound of claw marks, gouging themselves into copper and mahogany.

Sarah started to back away from the door and made her way closer to what she hoped was the centre of the room.

She felt Jareth brush against her as he followed. The two of them stopped in alarm as small particles of _something_ began to fall from the ceiling. She attempted to support Avery with one arm while her other hand touched her hair, even in the darkness she could make out the unmistakable shimmer of glitter.

~*o0o*~

_Rule Nine: Do not acquire a second husband, especially if he is a replica of the first._

“Oh, no,” Sarah muttered.

_Why did he think it was necessary to do this every damn time?_

The doors blasted open, falling off their hinges and leaving a cloud of dust in their wake as they cracked the flagstones beneath them. Brilliant silvery light flooded in from outside, accentuating the entrance of her husband.

In her periphery, she saw the Goblin-King-Of-This-Time stiffen beside her as he followed her gaze to his doppelgänger.

Clothed in navy breeches with boots to his knees, he wore an ivory silk shirt and a sapphire cloak draped over one shoulder. Sarah’s husband strode forward and inspected the throne room with a look of disdain; his eyes landed on Sarah and Avery and beamed at them with genuine delight.

“I found you.” _Her_ Jareth announced, as though he was completely unsurprised about her choice of a hiding spot in their game of hide and seek.

The other Goblin King continued to stare at him, no doubt recovering from what he thought was going to be an attack on his Kingdom. “What?”

Sarah cast a glance at Avery, slightly amused that he had chosen to fall asleep at possibly one of the most dramatic confrontations she had witnessed since she battled Lyreia for control of the Labyrinth.

“Sure, eventually.” Sarah agreed, smiling at her husband. “It took a little longer than thirteen hours for you to reach me.” 

Her husband rested a hand in her hair, stroking the small wisps that escaped her braid. A sly smirk crossed his face, “Not for me, only five on my end. It’s all rather relative.”

Sarah sniffed, feigning outrage. “Re-ordering time is cheating.”

“And seeking refuge in another time to hide is not?” He questioned.

_Ah, he’d stumped her there._

Jareth placed his other hand on Avery, brushing his head and assessing his wellbeing with his magic. He pulled his hand away with a smile, his mismatched eyes gazed into Sarah’s with adoration as he leaned his head forwards to kiss his wife.

Sarah used his moment of distraction to step back, placing herself nearer to the _other_ Goblin King who had been scrutinising their interaction with great intensity.

“Sarah?” Her husband frowned at her retreat.

Sarah shook her head, “No, I’m afraid I am quite upset with you at the moment.”

Confusion descended upon him, his eyes darting between her and the child as though trying to find an indication that he had missed any harm that had been inflicted upon them during his absence.

Sarah sighed loudly, “There is the small, _well_ , tiny problem really, of you wishing our son away.”

Jareth folded his arms defensively, he looked towards his bewildered counterpart for support but found none.

“ _Our_ son?” The-Goblin-King-She-Wasn’t–Married-To, echoed, not daring to hope he had heard correctly, that his vague suspicions were well-founded. Sarah could feel his eyes boring into her and she tried to recall if she’d said anything embarrassingly sappy about her husband in his presence.

Her husband decided to ignore him in favour of addressing his accuser. “You wished your brother away.” Jareth retorted.

 _The little prick..._ she fumed. She watched her husband’s double clench his jaw, torn between pride that he would sire a son and horror that he was going to wish him away.

“Really?” Sarah scoffed, “I was fifteen, you know better! You wished our son away.”

“I heard you the first time; it was all part of a devilishly clever plan.” He rebutted. At her look of scepticism, Jareth allowed a pair of crystals to form in the palm of his hand. He rolled them around for a moment, consideringly. Avery’s form began to take shape in the first crystal, whilst the second showed Sarah herself. “Magic leaves a trace. By sending Avery to you I was able to follow that trail back to the two of you.” Jareth finished, looking proud of his ingenuity, the crystals merged together into one glowing orb to emphasise his point. “You didn’t exactly make yourself easy to find, my love.”

“You would wish-away your own son?” The younger Goblin King asked incredulously. At least Sarah wasn’t the only one suffering from mild feelings of anxiety at the thought of Avery being sent through time unaccompanied. _Really there was no guarantee that she would be the Goblin Queen he’d end up with and not one from centuries before._

Seeing the stark contrast between the two Goblin Kings was remarkable. Her husband whilst carrying chasms worth of regal haughtiness was far more relaxed than his younger counterpart who remained suspicious and watchful of all, clothed in far darker apparel. 

“I planned thoroughly and accounted for all obstacles.” Her husband argued, displeased by the defiance glittering in his double’s eyes. He turned to her offering out his hand, “Come along Sarah, we must depart.”

Instead, Sarah laughed, she marched past both Kings and planted herself on the throne. She fought against the flush that bloomed in her cheeks as she remembered just what she had been doing on the throne a few minutes ago.

The-King-Of-This-Time quirked an eyebrow at her actions but made no attempt to reprimand the woman usurping his throne. She idly traced a finger across her sleeping son’s forehead before returning her attention to the room’s other occupants.

Her husband didn’t look too happy.

“Did you really, Jareth.” Sarah gave him a conniving grin. “Remind me, who did you, wish-away Avery, to again?”

Her husband approached the steps leading to the throne, his doppelgänger eerily mirrored his motions as though a great mirror stood between them.

Her beloved paused, his mild exasperation at her dramatics fading away as he started to fear the glint in his wife’s eyes. “I sent him to his mother.”

“Did you?” Sarah questioned ominously, at least she hoped she sounded ominous. Playing the villain was more Jareth’s shtick than hers but she could make an exception this once. “Want to phone a friend? Ask the audience?”

The-Goblin-King-She-Had-Inadvisably-Being-Making-Love-With-But-Not-Exactly-Cheating-With-Since-Her-Vows-Didn’t-Cover-this-Particular-Situation caught on to her meaning immediately. _Really, these distinctions between the two of them were becoming rather convoluted._ His lip quirked upwards as he turned to his counterpart. “You wished your son away to the Goblin Queen.”

Sarah felt pleasant shivers race up her spine at the reverent way the Goblin King uttered her title. It was nice to be acknowledged after his earlier dismissal in front of Adam.

“They refer to the same person.” _Her_ Jareth reasoned. “What exactly are you implying?” Warning crept into his tone of voice.

“I’m afraid.” Sarah drew out with a mocking smile, “It’s all about saying _your right words_.”

They stood in silence for a moment, _well_ , _she_ leaned back comfortably on her stolen throne watching the Kings come to terms with situation at hand. Sarah watched as a myriad of emotions flickered across her husband’s face while his double looked on with aloof amusement.

Finally, her husband’s face settled into a familiar smirk. “Even if our son is bound here in the way you’re suggesting, I am the King, I’ll simply claim him as mine.”

Sarah shook her head, “You’re not the King here, _he_ is.” She gestured to the black-clad figure.

“Well, you’re not the Queen here.” He responded quickly.

Sarah hummed thoughtfully and looked around the room. She brought a hand to her eyes to exaggerate the motion of searching the room for something. “I don’t see any other Queens present.”

The-King-Of-This-Time’s-Goblin-Kingdom tilted his head in consideration of her words. “I am in agreement with Sarah, I’m quite happy to acknowledge her as my Queen.” Humour flickered across his face as he took in the seething rage directed at him from his elder counterpart.

As fun as getting under her husband’s skin was, Sarah was beginning to feel agitated by the covetous way the younger Jareth was regarding her and Avery. Surely now he could see there was a future worth waiting for, there was no need for his possessiveness.

_‘My Queen.’ That didn’t bode well._

Her husband seemed to be having similar thoughts, his stance changed as he straightened up and held himself in a more menacing manner. His hands were poised, ready to summon a crystal at a moment’s notice.

Sarah cleared her throat, “ _Tick-tock_ husband, you only have thirteen hours.”

The-Goblin-King-Of-This-Time threw his head back and laughed; from the tiny alcoves, hidden away by shadows she thought she heard an echo of his laughter, in small chittering voices.

The Labyrinth tentatively reached out to her in her mind, as though questioning the challenge she had just thrown down. Golden spirals spread inside her head; along the cords running between Sarah and the Labyrinth she felt a small vibration. It reverberated from another set of strings, another connection. She could feel it twist and change, tugging at the corners of her mind.

An ancient curiosity, uncaring of the outcome of the little experiment, radiated off the Labyrinth as it indulged the Queen’s well-deserved payback. The connection snapped in place as Ruler became Runner once more.

For once it wasn’t her that was cast in the role of Runner.

 _Her_ Jareth’s hands balled up into fists. For a moment she saw a flash of remorse cross his face as his gaze landed upon Avery on her lap. “No.” He hissed in denial, “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” Sarah responded, she tapped her nails against the arm of the throne, _what’s said is said_. “The Labyrinth likes me more than you, so I don’t believe it will give you an easy time of it.” She mused. “Hmm, what should be your penalty should you fail.”

This-Realm’s-Goblin-King made his way to stand next to his throne, by her side, the odd act of solidarity unnerved her somehow. “I’m sure something can be arranged, _dear Sarah_.” The saccharine deceit dripping off his tongue was almost enough to make her choke.

“Believing that I could fail is laughable.” Her husband’s face was full of scorn. “I have lived here for millennia, I know every inch of this Twisting-Eternal-Kingdom-Of-Dreams.” Determination rang from his voice. “I shall retrieve my wife and son.” _Her_ Jareth turned to her with a mixture of annoyance and amusement, a common expression when he was dealing with her. “My darling, I dare say it will be _a piece of cake_ , you need not remain with _him_ for long” If she was switching their roles, he was going to l fill his new one in every capacity.

“Now, now, self-hatred really isn’t healthy.” The younger King chided as he rested a hand against the polished arm of the throne. He smirked as his older-self snarled at him. “I would wish you luck, but I’m afraid that’s one wish I have no interest in granting.” He continued lightly. His hand continued its path so his fingertips just barely brushed over Sarah’s arm.

Seeing this, her husband decided to forgo the usual magic route to just outright lunge at him.

Before he could reach the younger King he vanished into a swirl of glitter, courtesy of his opponent dumping him at the beginning of the Labyrinth with a lazy flick of his wrist.

Sarah shifted on the throne uneasily. All of this had seemed such a hilarious idea a few moments ago, _it was just a little bit of harmless revenge._ Except, she hadn’t counted on her husband’s counterpart enthusiastically supporting her endeavour. Anything condoned by a Goblin King had to immediately be cast under a suspicious light.

She turned to the remaining Jareth. It was odd to think of one Jareth as _hers_ , and the other as _not-hers_ when she had in fact passionately staked a claim on both of them. _And wouldn’t that be an uncomfortable conversation to have with her husband later on?_

“Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, a bit more sympathetic?” Sarah asked, perturbed. “Your counterpart is going to face dangers untold and hardships unnumbered.” 

Jareth’s eyes darkened at her words. He moved to seat himself on the arm of his throne, as she had done so before. Had Avery not been occupying her lap at that moment she was positive he would have attempted to assume a very different position.

“I thought you said you’d forgotten the words.”

“I implied.” She corrected.

A painfully sincere expression crossed his face; her heart seized up in her chest as she desperately hoped he wouldn’t repeat his earlier declaration. Everything had already spiralled out beyond her control and she had the sinking feeling that the one holding the threads was the Fae seating next to her.

“Not so eager to leave after all.” He reminded her.

Sarah laughed nervously, trying to shift as far to the opposite side of the throne as she could, “You realise that there’s no way Jareth will lose, right?”

The King’s laughter sounded cold. “I am certainly not accustomed to losing, it is true.” An undertone of malice was audible in his voice. “And I do not intend to lose you a second time.”

Sarah stiffened; Avery stirred in her arms, disliking being jostled about so much, he gave a sleepy murmur and blinked his large green eyes open.

“You’re not the Runner, you needn’t worry about whether my husband wins or loses.” Sarah reasoned.

Avery stared up at his mother, his eyes flickered past her shoulder to see his father’s face. Like before he reached his little arms out to Jareth with earnest. Sarah looked towards Jareth’s rather endearing expression as he regarded her son; the twinges of anxiety she had been feeling in his presence started to abate at the unconcealed tenderness he was displaying.

As he struggled against his blanket and his mother’s embrace the baby began to wail. Sarah propped the child up and started to rock him in her arms, in an attempt to soothe his sobbing. Avery continued to look towards his father's younger-self tearfully, his arms flailing futilely.

Jareth looked stricken as he watched his son cry, his hands twitched restlessly as he restrained himself from picking up Avery. A child cannot be taken by the Fae uninvited and Sarah’s husband had made it clear that his counterpart was most unwelcome.

“Sarah, _please_...” He implored her, eyes wide with the innocent desire to hold the child he would one day sire.

Between Jareth’s beseeching and her baby’s sorrow, she had no chance in hell of denying them. Relenting, she carefully lifted Avery from her lap and offered him to the Goblin King. Jareth stood abruptly, no longer perched precariously on the edge of his throne as he plucked the baby from his mother’s arms.

Sarah felt her lips twitch into a smile as she took note of the awe on Jareth’s face. He grinned as Avery ceased his crying and began to tug on the long locks of his hair once again. Avery was indulged far too easily.

Part of her felt some degree of wariness when she considered one day he would be old enough to make wishes; between her and Jareth being able to bend dreams and reality to their will and their hopeless devoted to him, it seemed to be a recipe for disaster.

The Gods help them if Avery ends up taking after his father and decides to pursue a mortal.

Sarah would be forbidding Jareth from giving dating advice. _Under no circumstances could kidnappings and dream invasion be considered wooing, for goodness sake._

Avery nestled his face into Jareth’s shirt sleepily, tiny starfish hands clutched at the material as he drifted off to sleep once again. He brushed the baby’s curls back with his gloved hand, “ **Prince Avery of the Goblin Kingdom**.” Jareth breathed reverently.

At the back of her mind, Sarah could feel the Labyrinth stirring, taking notice of the King’s utterance.

“Three guesses what _you_ attempted to name him?” Sarah rolled her eyes churlishly.

The Goblin King’s eyes lit up, “What do I win if I guess correctly?”

She scowled at him, “Nothing. Given the fact you grace half the Wished-Away-Children with the same name means it isn’t difficult to guess.”

“It’s a fine name.” He sniffed.

With one last loving caress of Avery’s forehead, he placed the child back into Sarah’s arms; she felt like she could relax once again. It was a resolute fact, more trustworthy than the dependency of gravity that Avery would be safe in Jareth’s arms, there was no reason for her to worry about such things.

Nevertheless, the Goblin King she had bested, confused, and slept with was being strangely accommodating all things considered. As willing as he had been, she had used him for gratification whilst knowing she had no intention of staying.

 _Maybe he’s just happy that we’ll have a bright future together?_ Sarah fiddled nervously with the edge of Avery’s blanket, relieved her son was no longer clamouring for Jareth’s attention now that he slumbered.

_No, no, no...husband or not we know Jareth better than this...he looks too satisfied with himself..._

The Goblin King summoned a crystal to his hand, he tossed it in the air casually. As it fell, moving past the length of his body his clothing began to transform once more. He now stood before her in his most ostentatious regalia. Whilst his clothing was still dark, he had chosen a silver breastplate engraved with a depiction of the Gordian knot.

He looked like he was dressed for going to war.

“What are you doing?” Sarah asked with mounting trepidation.

The Goblin King smiled mockingly at her, “My job of course. You did, after all, see fit to induct a new Runner into _our_ Labyrinth.”

 **_Our_ ** _Labyrinth...not **my** Labyrinth...this time_

His response set alarm bells off in her head, shrieking like Erinyes.

“You’re not seriously going to try to stop yourself from winning?” Sarah gaped at him in disbelief. 

She swallowed harshly, there was a reason that there were rules for time-travel, there are things you should never do. It was now patently obvious that she’d just run afoul of some of those unpredictable consequences.

_Except she should have predicted them because pre-cursed Jareth had always been a bitch to deal with._

“Are you familiar with the term _‘you are your own worst enemy’_?” Jareth offered her a positively feral grin.

If she hadn’t have been seated on his throne, holding his future son she would have collapsed under the weight of her actions.

_She did this to him, she’d wanted Jareth’s possessiveness and jealously as she’d flaunted her Labyrinthine acquired abilities and teased him with the knowledge of her husband’s existence._

Sarah had laid a claim on him and then she’d had the gall to be vexed when he’d turned around and done the same to her.

_Oh, I am so screwed..._

“What will happen?” Sarah asked quietly, “What will happen if you prevent my husband from reaching us in thirteen hours?”

The Goblin King stepped forward. Owlish predator eyes snapped to her lower lip, now bleeding from the force of her worrying at it. Carefully, he brushed a gloved finger against it and sealed up the small injury.

Sarah’s mouth erupted into a haze of tingles as they burned pleasantly from the touch of his magic, seeping into her. Her heart began to race as she watched Jareth’s pupils dilate when she licked her lips, gaining another hit of the potent zing of his heady power.

He leaned down to kiss her but she turned her head away forcefully. She’d already done enough damage for one day. He huffed in amusement at her defiance, but both of them knew it was too late for her to feign disinterest in him.

Jareth smiled down at Avery in her arms and gave her a look that was just as distressingly adoring. He pulled back knowing that there would be other opportunities to steal kisses from her lips. Jareth spun a new crystal into life, letting it jump and dance from finger to finger in smooth spiralling motions.

“If your husband fails, I’m sure I can find a place somewhere for a Goblin Queen and an Heir,” Jareth promised her.

His sincerity scalded her, a branding mark against her soul. There was no way of knowing which of the two would be the victor.

Sarah closed her eyes. She could hear crystal shattering, marking his departure from the castle. Left alone with her child she was plagued with an all-consuming question. 

_Which Jareth will be the one to return to me?_

**Author's Note:**

> lmao, she did kind of ask for this to happen to her. Believe it or not, this was supposed to be a lot more light-hearted originally.
> 
> Not sure if this should be tagged as mature or explicit, I've only written smut once before so *shrugs* I'll err on the side of caution.
> 
> Which Goblin King do you think wins? XD


End file.
